Little after 4 AM in early July and am sitting on the front deck of my home looking at the sky starting to brighten in the east. Soon brilliant, pastel colors spread across the sky placing a shiny sheen on a field of Bill Hein’s ripening barley across the county road. A robin sings nearby as little birds peep, peep, peep from bushes. The dim light is turning showing thin clouds and the outline of cliffs along the Yellowstone River over by Bruce and Anne Kania’s. A gentle breeze caresses my side. In Jeanette’s front garden flowers are beginning to open. In the distance at Tanner Vukasin’s trailer a Great Horned Owl can be heard asking the usual question of ‘WHOOO?’.
The sip of hot coffee tastes good while the Labs investigate smells, gobble grass and eat early raspberries. The newly refinished deck and newly rebuilt bench I sit on are situated just right. And no mosquitoes! At least not yet. Light from the East gets brighter and neighbor Steve Bonds’ barn appears out of the gloom. Western kingbirds dart out from their nest-holding ash trees snatching insects out of the air. Coffee cup empty. Still no traffic. Collard Doves begin their chanting. Special is still sleepy and heads back inside to her dog bed.
Prairie loves the cool air and lies at my feet then moves down on the concrete slab by our car port. In the distance comes the mournful sound of a passing train with a warning blat from its horn. Split lots of firewood yesterday and expected at age 79 to be stove up today but feel pretty good. Garden tomatoes, potatoes, squash, onions and carrots coming along just fine. I notice little white tufts of cotton drift by through the air from cottonwood trees surrounding our home. A glint on the far south hillside tells me Donna Delp is home.
Suddenly the sun pops over Mike Queyrel’s shop and hits me in the eye. Getting brighter now and can see rain gauge shows no rain last night. A sparrow flies up and tries to land on my motionless head then as I flinch decides to move on. Slowly flowers begin turning toward the sun and start to open. Then a female redwing blackbird stops to say hello. Probably grocery shopping and not much catches her eye so she sails out into Bill’s barley field. Slight movement at my feet brings a field mouse into focus. It scurries from plant to plant looking for something to eat. In the garden rocks other mice stir. Some 60 degrees this morning, and I can almost hear the corn growing out back towards Kevin Lynch’s place.
A cloud interrupts the sun briefly then poking out on top spreads sunshine across the land. The dim light runs brighter, and insects begin to fly about. Movement on the county road to my left but bright sun makes it hard to see what is there. Then a white-tail deer walks along the road and across the front edge of our yard. It stops to peer around and does not see me even though in plain sight only a pebble toss away. A nip off a garden plant and the buck walks into the yard and begins feeding. It is 15 yards from me and the 12 points counting the eye guards on the velvety antlers stand out in bright relief. The deer feeds over close to where Prairie is laying. Then they both see each other. Stares. Both kind of shrug and the buck slowly walks off.
Knowing our much-admired CHIEF and HIGHLY REVERED EDITOR is looking for stirring political remarks from this column, I fearfully leave them out. Last time he cut my pay; I had to get on my knees to keep from being fired. Only the three-month docking of my-yet-to appear back pay kept me from blubbering out an apology and a beseeching request for mercy. I think my promise of bonbons was what made him change his mind. While on my knees praying, I got to thinking. Yes, it hurt but I did it anyway. Sometimes I shock myself with the incredible stuff I say and do. But then I still try to get out of my pickup with my seatbelt on.
Speaking of pickups, I finally realized those stick people on the back windows of cars are not for keeping track of run-over pedestrians. Sometimes someone unexpected comes into your life out of nowhere making your heart race. I call these people neighbors. Thanks D and D and Mike and Amanda and Dan. Now we have enough books and firewood for next winter. And yes, we have a housekeeper named Mabel. She is short, round and kind of fat but not very efficient. A robot floor sweeper that works for dabs of electricity. And me? My function is to use my little toe to make sure the furniture in the house is in the usual place
