blue, blue sky with speeding clouds. warm wind, like from a desert, where the air has been warmed by the ground then pushed into your face. i sat outside for an hour and a half and made little noise. i was with bunny, the cat mentioned in an earlier post, and we were sniffing it, and we were listening to the sounds under the sounds of the breeze. sometimes a big wind would draw dozens of yellow leaves from a tree and it sounded like talking, and we would look in that direction. and sometimes the wind would loose braches that would knock against things on their way down, and we would look in that direction. and sometimes there were noises that had no apparent source, and we would look in that direction and wonder. it was almost 70 degrees, and in the mou
ntains 70 degrees can really bake your skin if you sit in it for too long. we moved in and out of the shade of trees. we would sit very still and listen, listen. then we would stretch and sniff the air and look at each other. then one of us would rise and creep to the next grove of trees, tiptoeing around the bear and deer scat, and find a place where the tall grasses had been mashed down by a sleeping mammal. then the other would follow, slowly, taking her time to notice the things between point a and point b. then we would sit down again, side by side, and listen. woodpeckers and smaller birds swooped overhead. we heard but did not see a hawk. we meowed at each other once in awhile, just to remind ourselves that we were together. sometimes bunny would lay in my shadow, sometimes she would roll over so i could rub her belly, sometimes she would look for grasshoppers, and she would pounce toward them. as far as i could tell, they all survived. she just liked to pounce. sometimes i reminded myself to take deep breaths. because i am intersted in the space between the voluntary and the involuntary. sometimes i felt like laughing or crying. mostly i just turned my head, toward this and that sound, toward the too-bright sun, w
hich made me squint. a squirrel watched us move, and we watched her. her tail made a perfect "s," so i took a picture of her. some big clouds that looked like dark gray storm clouds arose in the west, over the big hill across the street. their appearance seemed to make the air warmer; i didn't understand. one yellow leaf fell almost to the ground before it was lifted, swirling against gravity, over the tops of the tallest trees i could see! there are some things you cannot take a picture of.
ntains 70 degrees can really bake your skin if you sit in it for too long. we moved in and out of the shade of trees. we would sit very still and listen, listen. then we would stretch and sniff the air and look at each other. then one of us would rise and creep to the next grove of trees, tiptoeing around the bear and deer scat, and find a place where the tall grasses had been mashed down by a sleeping mammal. then the other would follow, slowly, taking her time to notice the things between point a and point b. then we would sit down again, side by side, and listen. woodpeckers and smaller birds swooped overhead. we heard but did not see a hawk. we meowed at each other once in awhile, just to remind ourselves that we were together. sometimes bunny would lay in my shadow, sometimes she would roll over so i could rub her belly, sometimes she would look for grasshoppers, and she would pounce toward them. as far as i could tell, they all survived. she just liked to pounce. sometimes i reminded myself to take deep breaths. because i am intersted in the space between the voluntary and the involuntary. sometimes i felt like laughing or crying. mostly i just turned my head, toward this and that sound, toward the too-bright sun, w
hich made me squint. a squirrel watched us move, and we watched her. her tail made a perfect "s," so i took a picture of her. some big clouds that looked like dark gray storm clouds arose in the west, over the big hill across the street. their appearance seemed to make the air warmer; i didn't understand. one yellow leaf fell almost to the ground before it was lifted, swirling against gravity, over the tops of the tallest trees i could see! there are some things you cannot take a picture of.
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