No, this isn’t a posting about the stock market. My meandering thoughts this morning center around actual animals. I read that yesterday in Tahlequah, a black bear ventured out of his domain and strayed into the north part of town. He was soon re-captured and probably taken back to a place where he feels more at home. Exciting for the people who saw him and probably a scary adventure for the bear. I wonder how he got that far into town without being seen? A mystery.
The bear set me thinking about the animals around us. Sometimes I see an opossum who invades the garbage cans at night or more rarely, a raccoon comes calling or a skunk. Then of course, there are hawks that sail over and if I’m lucky, I might glimpse an owl in the darkness. I plant herbs and flowers to attract butterflies who have a hard enough time trying to survive pesticides. I’ve noticed the pesticides don’t do a thing to deter mosquitoes but they do cut down on butterflies and bees.
At Manos Meadows I had a beehive, also lots of wildflowers in the pasture. My walks around the pasture took me by the hive and although the bees would zip within inches of my head on the way to and from the hive, never once did a bee sting me. I didn’t disturb their routine and they didn’t disturb mine.
I remember a story my mother told me about a time when an animal, not a wild animal but one that was supposed to have been domesticated, presented a very real threat to the Latty family at Etta. On my grandparents’ busy farm, several buildings were necessary for things to run smoothly. Pappy had built a blacksmith shop out of strong logs and was able to make just about anything he needed. On wintry Sunday afternoons, Ma and the children liked to sit in the shop watching Pappy work and enjoying the warmth from the forge. The peace of one particular Sunday afternoon was shattered when danger came calling in the form of a white- faced bull.
Outside the shop, the Lattys heard snorts, bellows and somebody yelling. They ran out to see what was going on. A huge bull charged toward them. He was so close, they could hear his breath as he snorted, see the froth around his mouth, and they could see the whites of his red rimmed eyes. The bull was not in a good mood. He ran at trees, bushes, anything he could see. The bull’s owner, a neighbor of the Latty family, followed him on horseback, holding one end of a rope which circled the animal’s thick neck. At times, the bull charged the horse but the horse, wise to the ways of this angry animal, nimbly sidestepped.
“Get them back inside, Lee!” the neighbor shouted and nobody needed to be told twice. The family ran into the safety of the blacksmith shop. Pappy dropped the heavy latch just as the bull hit the walls. Time after time, the bull rammed the log walls of the shop. His roars rose to a shrill scream. At last he must have decided he had subdued that enemy and he, the horse and rider made their way toward home, the bull’s bellows growing fainter in the distance. (from the book, Remembering Etta Bend)
Personally, I prefer encounters with butterflies rather than with bears or bulls or even angry bees. I think the danger comes when our ways don’t mesh with the lives of the animals around us. But what would we do without the animals that the Lord put on this earth? Some are beautiful, many are shy and reclusive, but all are interesting. So be they large or small, domesticated or wild, like the flowers in my garden, each one has its place in God’s great creation.
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