This morning I woke up pretty early (that's what happens when you go to bed at 9:30 pm) and walked out onto the front porch. Carol keeps putting salt blocks in the meadow for the deer, so I've been hoping to glimpse them as they bound across the meadow. As I stood in the porch watching dawn break (yes - it really was that early), I looked into the meadow for any movement. At first I didn't see anything but then I heard a strange noise, turned my head and there was one just staring at me. I shook the water out of my hair and he moved to continue watching me. For just a few moments, we were the only two living beings in the space and it was wonderful.
I'm not necessarily a nature girl and am very grateful for solid walls that surround me. Last week, after letting the dog outside for a last run before bed, we wandered around and there was some very strange screaming/screeching coming from the hillside just outside the back window. I wanted to get a recording of the sounds, but I was a fumble-fingered mess with my phone and nothing actually was recorded.
In 1983, Dad, Mom, Jim and I traveled north into Canada. Dad wanted to drive in as far as the road would go, pitch the tent on a lake shore and stay for several days. That's just what we did and it was one of the more glorious weeks of my life. There are several fun stories from that week ... because we're all dorks.
Jim and I took the canoe out onto the lake to do some fishing. He reeled in a nice-sized Northern Pike and since we didn't have a stringer with us (because we're dorks), he just hauled it into the canoe. The thing was not at all happy about losing its life and began flopping around. Jim saw those teeth and fins coming at his legs, but since he was in control of the boat motor couldn't get it stopped. I turned around and attempted to lay my paddle on top of the fish to control it. My aim wasn't fabulous and instead of just laying my paddle on the stupid fish, I beat the hell out of it. When we got back to shore, the bottom of the canoe was covered in blood. Mom and Dad were terribly concerned that Jim had been hurt badly because of all the blood. He just stood up and laughed. Yes, we ate fish that night and yes, Jim and I had to wash the crazy canoe.
Thank heavens Dad loved the outdoors, he made our camping trips wonderful. He was highly organized, had everything (everything - PLUS) that we might need and knew how to handle most anything that might occur. Mom and I, on the other hand, would always choose a hotel over a tent. We'd been camping enough with Dad to know that while he was comfortable handling anything that might come at us, we'd just as soon avoid any untoward encounters with wildlife.
Dad and Jim got the tent. Mom and I put beds down in the van and decided to be incredibly grateful for strong, steel walls between us and the local fauna. Especially when we woke in the middle of the night to snuffling and snorting and discovered that there were several large wolves in the neighborhood checking out the idiots in the tent. All was fine, and Jim and Dad chose to remain in the tent. I will always choose to have sturdy walls between me and the outdoors when it's dark and animals like to roam.
As much as I love it here at the cabin, think it's gorgeous and am overwhelmed by the beauty of God's creation. I am still not an outdoors girl and really, really am thankful for sturdy walls, a shower, and the comforts of home.
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