AMERICANA
Walkingonthe
WildSide
INTHECOOL
of the evenings, when the sun has
faded to a dull shade of orange and the gentle
scent of newly mowed grass mixes with the
fragrance of crapemyrtle and lantana, I walk a
familiar route throughmyneighborhood. A long-
standing routine, itspurpose ismore to clear the
mind from theworkdayandbreathe the freshair
than any prescription for good health. I’m not
training for anything.
Peoplewithdogson leashes stop to sayhello.
Familiarbarkingvoicescallout fromwindowsand
backyardsas Ipass, as if towarn that I’m invading
their territoryandall trespasserswouldbewise to
keepmoving. They halfheartedly bark the same
warning day after day, month after month. It’s
their job.
fromacreekbed tobeginhisevening forage,will
stop to stare froma careful distance. Highabove,
a pair of red-tailed hawks, wings spreadmajes-
tically, will glide through the last flickerings of
daylight. And frisky squirrels play a final game
of chase along the limb of a favored pecan tree
before calling it aday.
And for some reason, viewing this offers
reassurance that, regardless of the day’s mis-
adventuresanddoom-sayingheadlines,mysmall
part of theworld somehow remains inbalance.
I amcomfortedby thesecreatures, both tame
andwild, pleased to coexistwith them. Even the
decision by a family of raccoons to temporar-
ily take up lodging in the attic last summer was
but amild irritant. Sittingnightly towatch as the
mother and her young peeked from their hiding
place and then paraded in lockstep across the
rooftop to roam the neighborhood became an
anticipated fascination. In time, however, their rus-
tling soundsmade sleep impossible and, feeling
no small amount of guilt, I lured them intoacage
anddrove them toanearby lakesidepark, hopeful
the new locationwould bemore welcoming. In
short order, I turnedmyattention toanopossum
who, daily, performedhisbalancingactalong the
backyard fence.Andwhenanight-creepingarma-
dillo visited and decided to burrow a new home
beneath the front porch, itwasasmuchamusing
as itwasaconcern. I finallynamedhimAlfredand
decidedwe couldget along.
There is beauty in these animals’ simple rou-
tinesandneedsandgrace in theirability toadapt
to the fact that somuchof their habitat hasbeen
cutdown,gradedoverandbuiltup. I’m fullyaware
thatmankindhas invaded their turfwith endless
housing developments, shopping centers, soc-
cer fields and parking lots, but I’m no spitting-
angryenvironmentalist. I’venever huggeda tree,
and you’ll not find a “Save the Earth” bumper
sticker onmy automobile. I have no agenda; just
a genuine appreciation for the quiet pleasures I
dailyencounter alongmyway. Truth is, I’mpretty
comfortablewith theway things are.
I will continue to dutifully fill the squirrel and
bird feeders locatedat strategicspots in theyard
andput out foodandwater for acoupleof neigh-
borhood cats who visit but show no interest in
becoming friends. I like themmuch better than
they seem to likeme.
That’s fine too.
Andso, as longasnow-aging legsarewilling, I
shall continuemyevening journey, along thesame
familiar andwelcoming pathwhere friends, old
andnew, await. Indoing so, I findgreat peace.
It is the animal sights and sounds Imost look
forward to onmy daily trek. Mywife chidesme
aboutbeingona first-namebasiswithmoredogs
thanneighbors. There’sRustyandCherokee, Pea-
nutandRainey,Oreo, Jazzie,BrownieandShadow
— tonamea few. Theycome inavarietyofbreeds,
sizes and ages and are always tail-waggingly
happy tomeet a fellow traveler.We’repals.
Then, as I venture beyond the sidewalks and
paved streets into the nearby cedar woods, the
faces and sounds change. It becomes amusical
naturewalk, with the occasional evening hoot of
anowl, the summoning cooof adove to itsmate,
the rat-tat-tatofawoodpeckerstillhardatworkor
the caws of gathering crows arguing over some-
thing.Occasionally, a lonesomecoyote, emerging
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MAY 01, 2013
AA.COM/AMERICANWAY
