Questions

I’m ready for fall because this summer has felt relentless. Today’s ninety degrees might sound mild, compared to the year’s earlier high temperatures, but the air is so thick with humidity that I feel out-of-breath. What’s more, the yard’s mosquitoes no longer confine their activity to dusk. They descend in a visible cloud as soon as I set foot outside, and they seem immune to repellents.

Twenty minutes was all I could stand, this afternoon. Then I fled to my office, immensely grateful for the luxury of air-conditioning and fans. Grateful, also, for books and computers and sleepy cats.

And when I say “grateful”, I’m talking about the marrow-deep, guilty gratitude that comes from acknowledging my unearned leisure.

I cannot embrace a purposeless world, one ruled by selfish survival and numb probability. And yet, I can’t deny the powerful evidence of observation. Fate does appear random. Life is decidedly unfair. Very bad things happen to very good people, while very good things have happened to me even though I have done nothing extraordinary. Who am I, to deserve these gifts of comfort and freedom? And what should I do with them?

A Busy Evening in the Yard

Yesterday evening started out calm and quiet, with little visible activity in the yard. Then my husband phoned from the driveway. He didn’t want to get out of his car because there was a hawk in the front yard, one that was having trouble subduing a rat. He didn’t want to frighten it away.

This area has a growing roof rat population. Our shed is constantly under siege. We clear nests as we find them, keep our birdseed in a sealed container in the garage, and never fill the feeders with more seed than the birds can eat in a day. Rats still invade the shed. Recently, one has left an unmistakable trail of new evidence. We’ve been considering a more aggressive policy for our rat, one that will involve traps, but it seems such drastic measures won’t be necessary.

I believe this is a young Cooper’s Hawk. It eventually killed the rat, then carried its prize into the back yard.

We weren’t thrilled with the hawk’s decision to dine on our deck railing. Even so, we hope it will come back, the next time it craves a rat. (Just to be clear… that’s RAT. Not RABBIT.)

After the hawk left, a rabbit emerged from her hiding place under the deck and began digging a new nest. (The above photo was taken on August 16th. I believe it is the same rabbit.) I was skeptical of her efforts. I let myself get too excited, during construction of the last nest, which doubled my disappointment when the rabbit abandoned the site before finishing the nest.

Maybe this time? I didn’t want to watch too closely, so I turned my attention to the ginger lilies.

Each fall, I become obsessed with sphinx moths. This year the moths are a few weeks early, but as long as the ginger lilies keep blooming, the moths will keep coming. We typically see Pink-spotted hawkmoths, though the last few nights have brought mostly Carolina sphinx moths. My earlier photos were underexposed (except the one that was badly overexposed…), so I was happy to have another chance to practice with my camera’s flash.

After it grew too dark to see moths, I checked the rabbit’s progress. She had completed the nest and was nowhere in sight. I feared it would be another false-start. Another abandoned nest. But a closer look showed several tufts of hair around the nest, which seemed a good sign. (In the final stage before birth, rabbits pluck their own fur for the nest’s innermost lining.) I was tempted to look inside the nest, but forced myself to leave everything untouched.

Can you see the nest? The disturbed area in the foreground is where she harvested grass to line the nest. The smaller spot is the actual nest.

This morning, I couldn’t resist the temptation to check for babies. Success! Inside the nest, the babies are snug in a water-tight pocket of hair, which is surrounded by a thick pocket of dry grass, which is all cleverly buried and nearly invisible.

Now comes the hard part. As much as I want “our” rabbits to thrive, I know the odds are against them. The world is a dangerous place for baby rabbits. It teems with stray cats and hawks.

For that matter, the world is a dangerous place for all of us. Take away cats and hawks, and the world would be no safer. It would only be less beautiful.

More From the Cat Archives

Photo taken with my iPhone camera and adjusted with the Photoshop Express application.

From the Cat Archives

My morning was all thunderstorm and flooded streets as I splashed from errand to errand. Despite the miserable conditions, I finished my to-do list, then spent the afternoon pretending to be a cat.

Setting the Thermostat (and Publication Note)

The weather forecast calls for a break in the heat (accompanied by thunderstorms, of course.) I’m looking forward to a few days of relief.

It seems the cats are eager for a change, as well. Perhaps I have been a bit too aggressive with the thermostat, these last few days.

Publication note:  My poem “Custody” appears in the Spring/Summer 2012 issue of Melusine, or Woman in the 21st Century.