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The Mystery of It – All

12/01/2015 by Aruni

bobcat_1

“Are You My Mommy?”

It was just another day amongst the days of my life—just another morning amongst the mornings of my life.  I walk, I pray, I stretch, I meditate, I eat and dash (no matter how early I wake, always that last-minute dash) out the door, heading toward work, our series of substandard dirt roads leading me toward the paved road, taking me up toward Swamp Road, the main artery of transport.

The morning sun is playing off my car window, tickling me with the memory of warmth.  Early autumn has erupted, the trees beginning their mad dash toward glory.  I’m happily comfortable inside my wool jacket, the cool temperatures still novel and embracing.

And up ahead, just by the beaver dam, I see three tiny little animal figures crossing the road, in a line.  Just like little ducks, from left to right, they march in single file behind their sibling leader.  Wait, are they cats?

No little kitties are these, but baby bobcats!  My positivity slams into me as a physical reaction, twinging the hairs around my neck and down my spine.  Last summer I biked upon their possible parent; she was coming out of the newly plowed field.  She stopped and looked at me with eyes that were wild and clear and deep and totally unimpressed with my humanity.  I yielded to her brilliance, as she sauntered away, muscles rippling with confidence and ultimate rhythm.

I stop in wonder.  These little guys have the same rippling shoulder muscles, tufted and pointed black ears; their presence does not call out, “Come and cuddle with me”, as we are so use to with our animal companions.  No, their presence says, in silent wonder, I am of the wild.  I am of the mystery.  I am the wild; I am the mystery.  This is my place upon which you walk and drive and live.  Do not even consider messing with me.  I am one with This, all, in ways you, mere human, can never comprehend.

Their third sibling, impacted by the presence of my car, turns and dashes back to the brush on the left, while his siblings make their way fearlessly across the road, now absorbed into the brush on the right.  I have a flash of codependent concern about this potentially weaker of the siblings, yet recognize I have no influence here; I have no potential impact.  It is just not my business.

With my head shaking in wonder, I continue along, car purring up the hill to turn onto Swamp.  Such mystery—so close—in every breath, there the natural world throbs with life.  How easy to forget—how remarkable to be blessed with such a morning reminder.

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