My Back Yard

Unused laundry lines, open grass, wood pile and an old stone fence and beyond that the tree line; this is what I see from my kitchen window. I stand there every morning, with the first cup of coffee of the day in my hand, watching the familiar scenery. For a split second, I think of other back yards I watched in the early morning hours and while sipping my coffee my mind is drifting aimlessly.  

It’s quiet, and everything out there seems completely motionless yet there is a feeling of anticipation or maybe it is just me waiting for something to move and shatter the idle scene. I am so utterly engrossed I forget everything behind me; the boiling water and the coffee waiting to be made for breakfast. 

And then a movement, I catch it in the corner of my eye, and it awakens me, I am on the alert. My eyes are scanning the scenery, nothing. The white snow looks uninterrupted and deserted as before. I remember reading somewhere that to 'really' see you need to let your eyes wonder and not focus on any specific point. Often the best place to hide is in plain sight, and the eye movement without directly focusing will do the trick. I discovered this brainy bead in a science fiction book. It is a great tool to locate aliens but who knows it might work in my back yard too. So I try this technique and move my eyes ever so slowly from side to side. It’s a good practice I notice. I pinpoint details I never noticed before. The huge branches of the old pine tree in the back are sagging, almost touching the ground; they will have to be trimmed.  The red roof over the small shade looks broken in some spots and will have to be fixed in the spring. The wood pile is dwindling, and the winter is still long.

A movement again, it is so fast I don’t really see it is just an impression of motion in the quiet morning air. I feel a bud of stubbornness growing inside me, I sense there is something there, and I want to see it. I turn back pretending I don’t care but throw quick glances over my shoulder. I realize as I am doing it that this elaborate psychological approach is geared mostly towards me. Its’ based on another outside wisdom I acquired somewhere. It stated that as the pendulum move if you push too hard you lose the needed equilibrium. If, on the other hand, you stop pushing the other side will be forced to make a move. 

A movement behind the wood pile, I freeze with the coffee pitcher in my hand. Without moving my body, I turn my head slowly and immediately stop breathing. There is big buck standing there looking straight at me. Even though I am more than hundred feet away, and inside the kitchen the feeling that he can see me is overwhelming.  And then the animal does what I least expect, almost as if finishing a thorough assessment and finding me harmless it shrugs its shoulders and step into the open. 

I can’t believe it; this huge animal who managed to blend so well with the snow and the trees chooses to reveal itself. I walk slowly towards the window afraid it will evaporate into the air like a mirage that no, it’s as real as the snow and the trees and the wood pile. This beautiful animal is just standing there and completely unfazed by me, behind the window; he chews on some yellow blades of last year’s grass. 

Every once in awhile for no apparent reason his skin ripples and his ears perk up and turn as if to hear far away sounds. It picks his head and scans the forest behind him and then obviously satisfied with the results turns back to chewing. 

I watch him for awhile and then unwillingly return to my morning chores. When I look back few minutes later I catch its back walking into the forest slowly and unhurried. Two seconds later as if he was merging into the trees, he is gone.