"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

29 April 2014

A Murky Spring Day Beyond the End of the World

The last few days have been indicative of springtime murk; Tibetan winds lashing the landscape from the Roof of the World, intervals of gentle, but phantasmal, sunlight, and snow squalls-but, in springtime context, only blowing slightly to the side. The infusions I have had of lapsang souching I secretly hope are my last for a bit. See, the other day, just before the weather turned, I saw the first hummingbird of the season. An omen of shorts and breaking in that new pair of sandals I just got. The ticks are out and the seeps sing the invocational hymnals of runoff. Greening buds hold their breath before sprouting their leaves. Portends of the cyclic sloughing of seasonal skins. Sabina mentions mixing rum into boat drinks.

Someone attending the community melodrama during the opening weekend claimed to have seen a mountain lion. Big doings in a small town, but, given our location, such creatures are about. Sabina offered for me to borrow her pistol to run the Bull's Head. My solitary walkabouts suddenly becoming a matter of grave concern. Some would call this a sweet gesture, but, without me, she'd have to find some other sucker to pay my half of the mortgage. I mentioned to her it's hardly unusual for me to see a cougar around the house.

Would you be shocked if I told you that Sabina, nine years my senior, flipped me off for that remark? I know I was.

In the old snow behind the rock formation from which the trail takes its name the only tracks were mine from the last time I was that way and the fresh ones of a chickaree that bitched me out when I unintentionally wandered too close to its midden. Parts of the ruins of the Diamond Mine were partially submerged and the runoff had carved fresh channels through the tailings.

Interesting is a conservative term of what it may be like when the water really gets flowing this go around...

Sometimes, if I can swing it, after a walkabout, I take myself for out for lunch. Research for travelers, I justify it. We don't go out to eat together much. Sabina has remarked in the past she lives with a wonderful chef-such a polite way of mentioning I dabble about in the kitchen-and it's silly to pay someone else to do the dishes. During the summer, many of my lunch excursions are Tibetan buffets with her when we go to do laundry. I catch myself looking forward to curries, saag, and tandoori chicken on that veranda under the big mountain sky.

I had a salmon burger with swiss cheese and bacon along with some home fries at an establishment that's been around since the Dead Sea had a head cold. I was taught you do not even so much as put salt on what you're eating before the first bite, and the mark of a good cook is when you don't need condiments. The small dab of ketchup on my home fries was more out of tradition than anything else.

Peter Gabriel was playing as I finished up. From the library I'd picked up a David Attenborough narrated documentary about Madagascar. I was going to be making Moroccan herbed chicken for supper. The snow blowing through was not sticking and meteorological prophecy foretells of mild days ahead. Be that as it may, the day I've caught myself in has been shaping up to bordering on perfect. Well, as perfect as it can get without being boring.  

10 comments:

  1. Sounds same as here, watching snow flurries in bright sunshine is fun, of a sorts.

    I tell ya, I'd be more worried seeing a mt lion out there than a griz. I've seen several grizzly over the years, all looked a bit startled when they saw me. The one mt lion I've seen didn't look startled, it looked calculating.

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    1. A year back, driving home at night, I saw a cat run across the road. It was pretty fantastic, but I was glad to have metal and glass between us. Primal fear, I reckon. My own species frightens me more than any other, no matter how predatory.

      Although, a friend of mine does want wolves back in Colorado if, for no other reason, to curtail the mountain lion population. Her reasoning is wolves generally do not hunt humans, whereas an aberrant cat might. Not sure how true that is.

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  2. Probably true on the face of it, lots more cat attacks than wolf. In a habitat, they are after the same things for food: deer, antelope, rarely elk, coyotes, rabbits, small varmits, etc.
    I'm in favor of reintroducing predators, wolves, bears, whatever. I like the idea that the world out there is what it once was, and should be. Fine.
    Let's not forget we're the biggie, the top of the food chain. We want to think of it as ours, in the the biblical sense. It's ours, to control, to dominate. To do with as we wish.
    When we attemp to manipulate nature, reintroducing species, how far ahead do we look? Do we look at what it will do the current ecology? Are there enough deer to support wolves and cougars?
    I'm saying it ain't simple. We've fucked it up, almost FUBAR, and now we gotta contend with it. I'd suggest we do it from evidence based stuff, rather than what direction politics and 'general feeling' dictate.

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    1. There was an episode of Nova I streamed recently about the reintroduction of apex predators. Yellowstone-considered something of a success story-and the Florida panther were sited as examples. It was intriguing.

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  3. I would LOVE to see a mountain lion in the wild. I know this sounds crazy but it's on my "nature bucket list". I've been fascinated with them ever since childhood.

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    1. They are neat, but, like any of the big cats or even komodo dragon, I'd want some distance.

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  4. Bordering on perfect is really pretty good... ;D

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  5. I enjoy hearing about your interactions with Sabina and the bird.

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    1. We have grand interactions. She is an inspiration...to drink...

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