My Wild Acres

I find it hard to be still–ever. I have made great strides, however, in slowing down in my life and I really do feel healthier for it. Unfortunately, usually around bill time or show deadline time, I still suffer with bouts of insomnia. Sometimes the money woes and the list of chores just make so much noise in my head that they keep me awake. I am trying to learn to still them.

New rule. No money talk after dinner. No making plans or lists after the dinner dishes are put away. Only art, music, books and movies after the sun goes down. We’ll see if this is possible. We’ll see if this helps.

I work daily to keep safe the animals in my care.

I place heavy rocks on beehive covers to keep curious creatures–possibly even other bees– from raiding the hives and stealing the winter stores.
I place traps and entrance reducers on brood boxes to keep beetles from defiling the comb and mice from nesting on the bottom board.

I double check locks on the chicken run and coop in hope that they will keep out the hungry predators up from the woods.
I watch for the snakes we have seen near the coop and worry about them hurting chickens or stealing eggs.
I try to remember that King snakes keep the field mice away from the chicken feed. It’s hard to remember.

I whistle and coo at The Ghost, my biggest dog, to encourage him to stay close on our walks as he explores the woods and marks his favorite trees.
I drive stakes into rocky red clay and build barricades to keep my little dogs from tunneling under fences –or scaling them–to go walkabout.
I do not care to put up lost dog signs or chase a running dog down a busy boulevard — again.

I worry about my daughter’s cat that runs out the screen door every chance he gets to sun and nibble grass under the shade of the pickup truck.
He is reckless and too trusting and naive about the things beyond our stoop.
I do not let our cats out of the house because I do not want them killing the wild birds–or possibly the other way around.
One of my cats, the one we call Rain, is old and frail and it would not be hard for a hawk or owl to carry her away.
I’ve seen the remains of rabbits as big as she is near my house.
I will not let her be the owl’s dinner –if I can help it.

This time spent worrying and doing the chores of safekeeping means that I do not get to enjoy the wilds around my house like I used to.
Some days I am just too tired to look up from my task or to listen.
On these days I walk through spider webs and turn my ankles in rabbit holes.
I walk through the flight path of busy bees and get pelted in the side of the head as workers take off in search of more food.
I step in ant beds and brush poison ivy.
I gather foxtails and beggar lice on my clothes.
I trip on fallen branches and big overturned stones.

But now and then, in the quiet of the early morning, while my scruffy pack naps inside the house, I wander quietly into the meadow above my house.
I stand in the clearing as the pink sun rises and I watch and listen as the crows banish the hawks to the periphery of the woods.
I listen for waking and working songbirds as they flit and scurry around doing their morning chores.
I listen for fox and rabbit. I usually only see chipmunks and squirrels.
I notice footprints and scat on the road and find bits of fur on broken branches–like a tracker from an old cowboy movie.
I become part of the wild for a fleeting quiet time and that does my heart good.

Of course, it isn’t long before I hear the sound of the screen door slamming and the giggling of children as they pour out of the house.
They rise and shine each day–come rain or shine.
And without fail the big dog comes galumphing out to me, sending pebbles and dew flying, telling me that he is ready for his walk.
The little dogs sound the alarm that the big dog is running.
The chickens squawk in protest of the sudden sound–
and with a snap of a twig and a flutter of little wings, the wild recedes once again into shadow as if it were never there–
and I become the purposeful but clumsy tender and safe keeper of the tamed creatures again.