Sept. 26, 2002 ~ Empty spaces
This morning I sat down to write an entry here, and nothing happened. The white empty space mocked me, laughing almost, and if it could talk, it would have said, "Caught ya! You've got NOTHING to say, baby!" So it seemed wise to step away for awhile, and go feed the babies. Cats first, of course, then horses, then do a few chores, and pet a few noses. Soft, velvety horse muzzles, and rougher, slobbery cow noses. The horses nibble a little... not biting, more like "lipping," just to see if you have anything interesting to eat. The cows, on the other hand, lick. All of them do. It must be a rule... page 37, paragraph A, in the manual of bovine behavior. If you stand real still, sometimes even the youngest calves will approach your outstretched hand, tentatively extending a small tongue for a quick lick. Then they beat a hasty retreat. This drama repeats itself several times, till the babies tire of the game.
Movement in the small pond drew my attention. A large turtle. No, a snake. Or was it a snake AND a turtle? Perhaps even a fish? No, that was most unlikely. After the last drought killed all the fish, we didn't restock the small pond. How does a drought kill fish? When the water level is very low, the oxygen in the water is depleted and the fish die. Twice this happened, and twice it killed every single fish in the pond. We first noticed something was amiss when we saw a great flock of vultures standing on the shoreline. Had a calf died? Closer inspection revealed masses of dead fish, all around the edges of the water, with the vultures steadily working to clean up the mess. We used to be repulsed by these birds, but now we welcome them. They only show up when needed, and they make quick work of a dead armadillo, fox, or even a calf. In a day or two, there is nothing left but bones, or in the case of an armadillo or turtle, shell.
A short walk down to the water revealed several turtles swimming among the duckweed, and I stood right there and missed the obvious. It took awhile for it to register, but the dreaded pond weeds have returned. I think I've already sprayed the little pond three times this year, which is three too many for me. Guess this will make it four. I can hardly wait.
A dragonfly landed on my arm this morning, and seemed content just to park there. I couldn't decide if he was more of a "bug" (annoying and disgusting) or a butterfly (cute and adorable), but eventually realized that he was close enough to being a bug that he needed to go. He didn't want to let go of my sleeve! I shook him off and he landed on a flower.
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