There’s no time like the present. I had that scribbled on a piece of paper– taped to a window that only gets opened on nice days. I often do that–put little reminder notes here and there–and everywhere. And today was very warm for January. There’s no time like the present–a personal meta message to do something unusual.
But–with yesterday’s rain– everything’s all squishy.
So squishy that a bad boy red fox with black eye liner eyes– which made him look more bookish than bandit–was able to squish under a gap in the fence and strut around the back yard like he owned it.
I put my little reminder note in my pocket. I figured I had all day to get to it–and I would– eventually. I even knew what I was going to do. Kookaburra does it all the time.
You should have seen Kookaburra– frantically running around, searching for every trace of that Don Juan fox with his oh-so-obvious-nightly-howling serenades. I envy her, though. She has an electricity about her–a particular way of expressing herself with total abandon–no matter who’s watching.
I waited until the housekeeper across the street went home. She’s always watching. I even know where her perch is. Sometimes I’ll wave just to get a reaction. Then the curtains will move.
With shoes and socks off–and a towel nearby– and the hose at the ready–I finally found just the right spot– and I plunged my bare feet into that super squishy, cold dirt.
And it was spectacularly exhilarating.