Thursday, February 14, 2013

A Dangerous Game of Cat and Louse


It was mid-morning, like any other, I suppose. Quiet, except for the low hum of such things as the refrigerator and the sporadic rush of air through the vents that spew heat against the cold. Our relationship is clumsy, but their consistent, distant droning sound is the only company I have now in an otherwise empty home. My life has become long, drawn out moments of silence, sporadically filled with electronic white noise, digital minions occasionally reporting in for duty.

I sat, slumped back on the cool leather couch to stare at a blank television screen, wondering what to make of my day. Through the curtains, beams of sunlight broke through the gaps and reflect off of the smooth leather and into my eyes. I shift to avoid their sharp, scorning rays, casting my head to the side away form their judging gaze.

Then I hear it, a groaning vibration. What is that? It’s not electrical, not mechanical. It is familiar yet physical, inside me. Gazing down to my sunken stomach, I feel it calling out for relief.

As my melancholy contentment succumbed to hunger, I staggered to my feet. The cool floor against my feet widened my eyes. I could feel the uneven wood boards with their worn edges from years of expansion and contraction, like long drawn breaths inhaling and exhaling with the change of the seasons. Each one lay uniquely different with patterns and variegated browns and pumpkin oranges, yet one with the adjoining partner.

En route to the cupboard holding my breakfast, something dark and unfamiliar stabbed to stop me through my peripheral vision. There, through the double pains of the kitchen window and across my snow covered yard he lay out like a drunken man, wheezing on all fours and about to spill up the contents from the previous night’s jubilee. He was a perfect contrast against the bright pure snow and his sinister deeds further distancing himself from innocence. He was like a scrap of coal against a beautiful marble floor, and equally out of place and unwanted. I froze solid so as not to frighten him away.

This was not his first time trespassing; the demon chose to plague me for months. He often appears through the fence, then makes his way to the neighbor’s house to purge his own hunger and gorge on dog food carelessly left out to be pillaged. My yard was a feline thoroughfare and like a gas station poised in-between his destination, he only stopped to use the bathroom.

In the beginning, I tolerated him. Though each time I found his feces my empathy further waned. My space had become a giant litter box.

You can’t simply kill a nuisance cat. I say that ironically, because it seems to be the simplest solution. But, you can’t. Well, not legally, anyway. No, you have to have someone else do it for you; specifically, animal control has to kill the beast for you. I guess they don’t automatically kill the beast for you. Maybe they give the intruder a chance to live, though I can’t imagine anyone adopting such a devilish pest. At the very least, he deserves to view life from the other side of a steel frame to contemplate his actions and reform. Only, it is up to me to catch him.

They don’t make it easy, but they make it sound easy enough. Get some smelly cat food, place it in the trap, set it, then wait for the animal to go inside, and bring it back to the pound. No problem.

I spent the rest of the week without any luck. The trap, lay open, impotently attracting nothing. It was cold and useless; a lie.

Now, here I was, so close to the finale. A feeling of morbid anticipation building inside me as I waited for the impending snap of the steel door to the cage to, at last, trap its troublesome victim. Yet, nothing happened. The door remained poised for action. The cat, bent like a hangover. I stood motionless, fixated on the beast until the grumbling in my stomach awoke me back to the reason I came to the kitchen. 

I moved to open the cupboard, glancing back so as not to miss the big moment. Then, grabbing a bowl, the cereal, pouring the milk, and finally sinking a spoon into the cool frothy mix. "Nothing like dinner and a movie," I thought out loud. A smirk, followed by a warming sense of guilt began to build inside of me. Was it the thought of his impending death at my hand, though ultimately at the hand of another, the state, which raised the humanity in me? Maybe, it was how nonchalantly I was ready to enjoy my breakfast while witnessing the last moments of his freedom. Should I feel guilty? I'll never know for each bite of cool Honey Nut Cheerios seemed to further quench the fire once building inside me so it never came to flame. 

What was it doing? Eating? I've never seen this. Is it coughing up a hairball? No doubt it is going to puke all over and leave me with another mess to clean up. I wish it would just get in the stupid trap already so I can take him to the pound. Then they can deal with him.

The pound. Now that is a place. I once thought to work there. But, the smell, horrible! It hits you from the moment you walk through the glass and steel door like stepping into the steam of a hot shower. Then it slaps you in the face and burns your lungs. Your eyes water and you wonder if the smell will permeate your clothing. To think, working there would mean eventually getting so used to that smell that it becomes normal to you.

The bowl rang like a bell as the spoon searched in vain for another bite. The cage was still empty, well void a cat and full of food, like my belly. Apparently, the cat's belly was full as well. It had no need of the Mahi-mahi tuna, or dried cat niblets. It paid no heed to the smelly Friskees cat food. It ignored the scent of my variety buffet, and sat content and uninterested. Or, maybe he was simply leery of the trap. Had it been caught before? 

My anticipation rose as the devil stared at the cage. He paused, as if seeing it for the first time. Then, as if he couldn't see it at all, he walked by and headed through the fence to harass another neighbor.

Deflated, I rinsed my bowl, and roughly placed it in the dishwasher rack. Notably my footsteps were harder and frustrated as I made my way to the couch. The floor gave way to creek and moan as it disapprovingly cried out against the unnecessary abuse.

Shaking my head as I exhaled, my aggravation building, I slumped back into the couch. Cool and comforting, it hugged me back as if to say everything will be all right in the end. Then suddenly I realized, I was still hungry.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

August Rain

August rains visit the mountains like a song, sweet beginning and end. Ever soft and shallow, small droplets amass conviction then steam ever determined to the ground. Refreshing scents of sage and pine filling the air, an effervescent soup one wears to taste. All around colors change. Great mounds of stone alter to reveal other shades of magnificence and strength. Roads, once light and dusty turn to thick unforgiving muck, while the grasses shimmering light reflect the sky's brightness. Like stars, twinkling in their terrestrial cosmos.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

High On A Mountain Top - Mount Olympus '09


Scaping out the land below, the people like ants. Small creatures in single file freeways and roads. Sunbeam light breaks through cloud cover, ushering colored spectrum and song into the gray morning. ever cool breezes blow, moist, chasing the fog up the mountain trail.
Rain comes now, not from above but all around, beading on my skin. As quickly, the warm sun appears to chases wet droplets away.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Delicate Rhythm and Excitement


It is early morning, dark, absent the warming touch of sunrise, yet I am filled with anticipation and excitement. Keen to nature's awakening, it fills my soul as I drive through Big Cottonwood Canyon.

Silver Lake lays silent, shadow cast and surrounded by an army of snow caped peaks. Eking out of the lake-giant, a small stream glides in whimsy; hardly a prelude to the mighty current it feeds close by. Its deliberate current is steady, though barely moving as to deceive me. I slide into the water, carefully and not to disturb, too much, the soft bed of soil and mud beneath my feet. Even still, delicate plums of brown smoking soil envelope me and rise before being carried away. Now, pressing against me, I can feel the cool stream, refreshing and clean.

Sunlight begins to overcome the mountains and breaks through the trees, blinking in the morning breeze. It reflects across the mirrored surface and warms me. Dark blackened-brown reeds lay succumbed by winter snow packs, eager to again stand erect when the season warms. Quiet, still... the air reflects my rhythm as I lay my fly onto the surface, until, something strikes it with deadly precision, from the depths below.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Moab, UT


Moab offers a unique experience to discover many of the red rock country treasures. Nearby amenities include Canyonlands and Arches National Parks, Dead Horse Point State Park, and the Green and Colorado Rivers. With so much to offer, first time visitors may find it overwhelming.


Our trip included short hikes through the national parks, seeking out arches, slot canyons, and river valley views that stretched out to the horizon. A foreign silence seemed to fill the arid landscape, yet the desert was full of life. Spring blossoms doted our paths with radiant reds, yellows, and faint blues that seemed to reflect the clear skies brilliance. Lizards and crows now make home, what was once inhabited by native tribes. Sandstone canvases of primitive art await those willing to put in the leg work, while careful observers may find artifacts of ancient workmanship to appreciate, lying uncovered along their paths.


The balance that maintains this fragile ecosystem is essential here. I am as alien to this world as another planet. Could the silence be the sound of man, absorbed into the landscape like water to dry earth, truly awestruck by the surrounding beauty?

Monday, May 18, 2009

Limits

Real journeys take place without set destination or time frame. It is the apprehension of uneasiness that awakens the senses and invites new perspective. Routine is the enemy of innovation, and yet we continually seek the comfort of the familiar; to frequent known territory, until we are thrust into the abyss to find our way. The often foreignness of life’s changing circumstances brings opportunity to break free of routine and open the mind to their influence.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Simplified, Cooling Silence


Winter camping is the essence of the outdoors simplified to minimal and basic needs. Filled with uncertainty and apprehension of the unfamiliar. Without the added comforts and time spenders to attract our attention, we are left to focus on alterations to our routine, and relearn tasks in the cold. Our senses heightened; eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom become challenging and pose new discomforts. The latter, almost always waiting until I am comfortably laying in my sleeping bag; warm inside layers of down, somewhere between sleep and awake. Dreading the inevitable ambush of chill to my tender parts, I hold off until the final moments before making a mad dash for any proper spot nearby to find relieve.

Once the urgency is over, I am left again with the lucid wilderness. It is quiet and pleasantly aglow with reflected moonlight. Like a neon blue cityscape, the snowdrifts advertise brilliance and wonder.
Blackened silhouettes of wood and pine stand like skyscrapers. They shrug off accumulated snow, with a soft whoosh, from their branches to pile it below. Stars shine like glowing ambers above me, though foreign constellations now inhabit the once familiar sky. Solemn breezes flow across my neck, and raise my hair, as the chill runs down my spine. The forest comes alive, with soft ambiance and I am pleased to witness it alone, in the simplified, cooling silence.