Before sunset, an owl in the fir trees down by the marsh… the black kitty from down the road sits in the gravel under the red pick-up truck… Veneta the Siamese watches her quietly from up the driveway. The black kitty watches back. Molly is off somewhere playing with Maddy. Diggy waits for release from her kennel. I traipse down to the kennel and let Diggy out. I carry her food dish back to the house then I retrieve the trash and recycle containers from the roadside. I know it’s spring because Jake and Kristen have added a few trash cans to my load. Their garden cart is by the barn. I imagine Jake hauled his trash out with the cart, a high tech well balanced aluminum job with big wheels and bearings that would meet Lance Armstrong’s engineering spec. Molly shows up. The black kitty has retreated into the ramshackle garage, hiding in my mess of pots and pipes and gardening equipment. The place is an embarassment that only a gallon of gasoline and a match could put right.
I fix the dog dinners and emerge from the house with no critters in sight. Calling Diggy is useless. She’s deaf. I call her anyway. Molly shows up. We take a hike out to the orchard, looking for the Digster. I look back along the path and there she comes, following at about fifty yards, her wobbly gait only slows her a little. Her hips are giving out. We weren’t sure she’d last the winter. Now in the spring we’re all wondering what all the February fuss was about.
The apricot tree is in lavish bloom. The blossoms don’t smell that great, but they’re beautiful, abundant. No apricot has set on this tree since I planted it 13 years ago. I don’t know if this Moonglow or Sunglow, but the bunnies killed the other one and you need two to set fruit. For the last eight or ten years the apricots have given us our first taste of spring in the orchard. My sniffage is tempered, I look carefully at the branch and the blossoms before driving my nose home. I’m cautious due to the proximity of the hives. The bees are missing tonight. Must not like these west Asian fruits or maybe they’re settling in for the night.
From time to time the owl hoots. A pheasant squawks. A redwinged blackbird takes off from the farthest apple tree and Molly follows. The bird flies slowly in great loops, about fifty or eighty feet off the ground. Molly chases it, keeps her eye on it every step of the way. It leads her around for a few laps then tires of the game and zooms away. Molly pants up to my side but she does not flop. She turns her attention to bunny spoor.
Diggy and I head back up the path toward the barn. Suddenly Molly appears far ahead, quite still and watching us from the lawn. She has somehow teleported to that place since time and distance would not allow a conventional transit… and I could swear I was watching.
The sky is a deeper blue than it was just minutes ago, and the yellow sun is dropping below the horizon. Diggy is ready for dinner and Molly is too, but not as easy about admitting it. After I drop the Digster off I head back to the house and Veneta appears. She’s ready to go in and eat Molly’s dinner. Molly is standing on the east lawn looking silly with a Frisbee in her mouth. I give her a shout and round the house to the front door that I know is unlocked. I leave the door open and Molly shows up in her time, well exercised thanks to the birds and bunnies.
It was a beautiful spring evening and now it’s gone.
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