2/13/15
9am
-6° F
Winds – 10mph WSW
Sunny with 100% chance of Snow showers
I dreamed of him last night. We were cuddling on an old
reclining sofa, covered in a many soft blankets. When I woke I could still feel
his arms around me and his chest under my cheek. The dream fled and I was left
breathless. I quickly prepared for my walk, wanting to be anywhere but in my
bedroom.
I looked outside to gauge the adventure ahead. The world was
white in every direction. Snow and ice still covered my little part of the world.
I won’t lie, the cold has always bugged me and the genius of taking a nature
writing class in winter was beginning to weigh on me.
I decided to leave Romy in the warmth of the house. She
begged to come with me, but I knew her little body, especially her paws, couldn’t
handle the low temperatures and harsh winds.
I stepped onto the porch and the sun’s brilliance blinded
me. I pondered how best to portray this on the page and realized no words would
do. I raised my phone and took several pictures, at different levels, because I
couldn’t see to know, if I captured the great orb’s radiance or not.
Even when I can’t see the sun, I know it’s in the sky.
Today, its warmth doesn’t reach me. I think of the other parts of the earth
where its warmth is flowing or overwhelming. I’m jealous of those places. I
want to be warm.
I walked around looking for something interesting to write
about. I was cold and afraid I would strike out again today. The last few weeks
I’d gone out every day, and each day memories of him ambushed me. At last, I
noticed a large bird sitting about 30 feet up in a tree and walked toward it. It
was a Cooper’s Hawk. I’ve loved watching hawks since I was a young girl. As I
got closer I realized there were two, and both were larger than Romy.
The birds’ white and taupe coloring made them difficult to see
when they were motionless. Lucky for me, they were hunting a black squirrel,
who was taunting them. The squirrel knew it was safe in its home in the tree’s
trunk and would peak out and dart back in at speeds almost too fast for me to
see. The squirrel was black streak against the white backdrop.
The birds were patient, at first. Then they became more
aggressive and the squirrel matched their vigor. The battle above me thundered.
Loud noises bother me and I began to back away. Also, I didn’t want to see the
little squirrel being torn apart by the hawks.
Their struggle continued for about ten minutes. To my
surprise, it was the hawks that surrendered. I watched as they flew off. I
assume in search of easier, less playful prey. I headed in the same direction
as they did, and watched them glide through the sky. I wondered if they were
cold. My limbs were burning from the cold and I was covered in layers of
clothes. I thought of the poor squirrel. Was it worried that the hawks knew
where he lived? Did he wonder if they would be back someday to finish their
fight?
As I neared my home, the dream popped in my mind. Why was he
always in my mind, taunting me? I thought of the squirrel and wanted to believe
it had a lot in common with him. Both are full of bravado and hot air. Am I the
predator or the prey? Did he surrender,
or did I? When did the lines blur? Will he be back some day to finish our dance?
