19 years on a farm….
In the Fall of 2012, my husband started mowing down our squash patch. Usually full of acorn squash, butternuts and a variety of gourds, this particular year the patch produced almost nothing. The occasional relief from a summer drought did not provide enough rain for this low-lying patch of earth.
Before beginning to mow, Radames glanced around to see what creatures might be hiding among the bent stalks and drying leaves. Creatures looking for seeds and other vegetation. He spotted a grass frog, also called a leopard frog, and tried to get it away from the mower, but it jumped into the mower deck shoot. Radames stopped the mower and grabbed the frog. He walked it over to the pond and was about to throw it in when he envisioned the bass and thought “Why save the frog just for the bass’s dinner.” He proceeded to the tree-lined creek that feeds the pond and set the frog safely down among the grass and rocks.
Moments later, Radames began to mow ad watched a kangaroo mouse hop out of the squash patch and off into the woods. He described it to me from the little hopper’s point of view.
There I was in the forest, munching and munching, the sun just rising over the eastern branches: I felt safe and cozy among the long trunks. The morning bird made a little sound as the rush-hour traffic slowed to a gentle swish in the background. I heard the occasional plane and frog jump, a normal day here.
Then I heard a bang and a boom and saw large blades coming toward me. The stalks were tumbling faster than I could move and the blades were right on my tail. Could I hop to safety? Could I make it across the wide green abyss to the next forest? I began to hop, then fear paralyzed me, I began to hop again, fear stopped me again. Finally, “hop hop,” I told myself and I went bonging across the green.
Silence, the machine stopped right at the edge of the green abyss. It was no longer after me and although my current homeland disappeared, I saw more on the horizon. As I hopped away, I thought I saw the alien on top of the machine tip his hat in my direction, smile and say, “Be safe little guy.”