To all my Jewish Friends!
Picture from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Chanukia.jpg
At dusk tonight, around 4:40pm, I was standing at the back of the path, looking out over the corn fields. I could see the farmer’s very large tractor slowly moving in the field, that bright John Deere green cutting a path as it harvested the dried corn. An equally large, green truck waited close by for the corn to be loaded.
That sound, a whirling roaring, scream that tractors make, came at me in waves slipping on the wind, it sounded similar to those monster, sound effects in the old, ‘Lost in Space’ TV show.
My dog sat at my feet, his nose lifted up as he sniffed the wind. It was quiet, except for a few crows that flew past in a huff.
At that point, I suddenly missed the sounds the Robins made at sunset. I don’t know when it happened, but they all flew south for the winter.
Last winter, the only winter I can remember I spotted a Robin hopping around in the snow, his red breast contrasted beautifully against the pure white snow. I thought maybe his direction finder was off kilter.
So, I checked on line and found that- Robins rely on the Earth’s magnetic field to show them the way home, to food, to warmer weather. I really wish I could tap in to that field. I get lost in my living room.
I thought of an article I had written for a class. It was about electromagnetic fields disrupting bees, birds and our bodies on a cellular level. I find it sadly interesting how everything is connected, except when profit comes into play…
I turned to Uriah. “Here Boy, have a milk bone.”
Uriah pulled himself up, and wagged his tail, while crunching on his treat. He looked over his shoulder at the dark trees.
Squinting at the shadows, I smiled. “I got the message, let’s head back home.” I rubbed his face with both hands.
He loved it so much; he started to bump his entire body against my legs, nearly knocking me off balance. I gave him a playful shove. He smiled back at me and waddled fast towards the house.
“Chickens also orient themselves by the Earth’s magnetic field”
Morning: 8 am~
Silence- over cast sky, heavy air pressure but most of all, the silence it’s settled in like a thick blanket.
A couple of Blue Jays screamed and whistled at me this morning. I wouldn’t have thought twice about the silence if it had been cold, which is not the case; the temperature is around sixty degrees.
I felt something move around me, Mother Nature is waiting for something to happen. Every living creature has to have a migraine from this air pressure.
Somewhere around 12:00pm~
The ground is holding in the vibrations from the train nearly two miles away. When the air is this still sounds drift around the trees, and illusion can echo eerily in the darkness and fog. In the middle of the day it just feels odd.
I stood out on the deck and sneezed five times, painfully irritating. I looked up as the sun peeked out behind the grey clouds. Blue sky slipped into view along the horizon.
My sneezing disturbed a Blue Jay. He flew out of the old apple tree into a miniature crab apple tree, closer to the deck and to me, then screamed his anger.
I just remembered to take Uriah for his last walk around the back. It is almost too late. I decided he needs the exercise, and so do I.
It’s nearly dark; that point where the lighter objects glow and the darkness is shadowed in a mist. Above me the clouds in the western sky fanned out towards the east. Pieces of yellow sunset and blue sky shine through the clouds along the horizon.
A heavy musky smell wafts past me. I whistle for Uriah. He is panting as he trots to keep up. We hit the lowest part of the path. I can’t see the mud so I hold tight to my walking stick and slip on towards home.
Suddenly Uriah starts to growl, a low muffled sound that comes from deep in his throat. He pushes past me. Then stops directly in front of me, and starts scraping the ground with his back paws and takes a stance of ownership and protection.
“Good, dog, Uriah!” My voice is loud in the darkness, he turns towards me, sneezes then growls back at the trees and tall grass. I wondered if his sneezing is a warning that a skunk is hiding in the grass? I wasn’t going to stick my nose anywhere near a skunk. Hmm, It could be a raccoon another reason to walk faster.
I moved past Uriah, and called him to follow. We are moving rapidly towards home I could barely see the ground.
Fifty feet or so away from the path, Uriah turns back and barks, scraps his back feet kicking up dirt and grass. His hackles are still raised, as we hurry towards the house.
Raccoons are dangerous for both of us. A few years ago, when I had three dogs I was attacked by a forty pound raccoon. My dogs saved my life.