I laced up my boots to take a walk down the road this morning. It was a little humid out, the sun was shining and I knew that I would find something to pique my interest down there on the stretch of gravel that goes by my house.
I have found several toads lately....they were dead, which was kind of sad. I didn't think they were dead at first...they looked very toad-like and as alive as any toad might look at 8AM on a sunny day in April. I took my little stick to get them to hop out of the way. I always do this because there is nothing sadder than a squished toad who has fallen victim to the wheels of a pick-up. The toad did not move. I pushed a little harder. Nothing. I gave a little flip with my stick and his poor stiff body turned over. How sad. I thought it would be kinder to let his body rest in the green grass off the beaten path...and I gave another little flip and off he went to Toad Heaven Beside the Road.
A little bit farther down the road I came across a wooly caterpillar. He was looking like a miniature bottle brush, a black bottle brush for that matter. He crawled along beside me for a time. I stood still wondering what he would do. Inching his way toward me he came up against the solid rubber end of my boot. He climbed a little, lifting his funny round body up and peering at the boot toe with his shiny black eyes. I guess he must have thought (if caterpillars are capable of thought) "Hmmm....maybe I really don't know what this is. Gravel feels a lot better. I think I'll get down." And get down he did. I stood still. He circumnavigated the sole of my boot...going very carefully around the edge, poking his nose into the rise between the front and the heel, decided that was not the way to go, backed out and continued his journey...slowly, slowly, not hurrying at all. Finally he breathed a sigh of relief (if caterpillars can breathe sighs of relief) and crawled out into familiar territory heading to the other side of the road. I whispered to him, "Hey little fella, you might want to get a move on. I see a hungry sparrow up ahead and he might want you for breakfast."
On up the road I admired the weeds that were growing in lush beauty in the ditch. The flowers are so small and white. I nearly lost my balance trying to see how many there were and if they looked at all familiar to me. One lone spider web still held the morning dew, the sun making each drop shine like a diamond. Coming up the slight hill and down into the swag I saw some scratching in the dust of the road. It must have happened last night. I could see claw marks and scuffs of paws, large areas clean swept, and others that might be marks of a tail or two. Coyotes? Bobcats? Who knows. I stayed and studied the four or five places that had been made all along that section of gravel. I tried to imagine what had gone on. A friendly hello? A growling stand-off? A tussle? Or maybe just a welcome hi, how are you, how are the wife and kids? I will never know.
On the road. Lots of things happen. Caterpillars cross. Toads live...or die. And animals, big and small leave their mark. All it takes is a little time to stop and look around. And see what might be happening, right there ....on the road.
