Meeting Under an Orange Sky

The sun remained a distant orange globe all day as it moved across smokey skies. I spent most of the day inside with a dog who could not understand my explanations for such a sedentary Sunday.

At around 7:30pm, I gave in and took him on a slow short walk up the hill from the cabins. The sound of barking dogs from the forest made me call Herschel (my dog) to me and keep him closer than normal. As we got closer to the summit, his ears perked up and his gait changed to a trot.

What did he see?

Then a clicking noise. Turkeys. I grabbed his collar and kept walking, not wanting him to chase the birds. First a hen — a female turkey. Then a group of juveniles. I craned my neck to see how many she had in tow and, just as I did, a mountain lion sprang from the brush alongside the trail.

In one leap, s/he crossed the trail and was in the forest, the long tail following the graceful body as it disappeared into my neighbor’s yard.

I had interrupted a hunt. And by the grace of God or some other force in the Universe, I had Herschel’s collar in my hand, which had prevented him from becoming prey.

I turned and walked slowly home, collar in hand, muttering to myself for a half mile, confused as to how I had come so close.

A presence not seen

An unfamiliar force

Interrupts.

Shocks. Dazes. Terrifies.

Amazes.

Creates wonder

at how I am alive.