The frustrating thing about that darn snowstorm in October was the damage. Trees still have leaves in October. When the snow fell, it clung to the leaves and the weight made branches fall, trees split in half, or even worse, get uprooted right out of the ground. Trees fell on wires, I hear that’s why we lost power—they actually cut it off until the wires could be fixed, otherwise there’d be live wires in the streets! All of that meant that tree litter was pushed to the curb, until the town, county or state could deal with the debris.
The mess was dragged to municipal parking lots, dead ends, and places like the entrance to Horseneck Nature Sanctuary. It took weeks for them to haul it away. It was still there for Thanksgiving, but someone had pulled some of the debris aside, so that they could get to the path into the woods. On the Friday night after Thanksgiving, I went out for a walk in the evening. Aunt Lina was on the computer; we had just come back from spending the holiday in Connecticut, with Sue and Andy, artist friends of Aunt Lina’s.
Sue and Andy had teamed up with another couple from their church, and made a Thanksgiving dinner for people in their parish who weren’t spending the day with extended family. It was weird, being among strangers. Usually we’d spend Thanksgiving cooking at the farmhouse, inviting cousins and friends to be with us.
I was too old to hang with the kids watching the parade, and too young to hang with the teenagers, who had swiped a bottle of wine from their parents and snuck out to the church’s parking lot to drink it. So as dinner cooked, I walked around the empty lot next to the church, watching a hawk fly overhead. I could scent the fear in the small mammals in the area; the squirrels stopped frolicking, and mice and rabbits disappeared underground. The cougar part of me wanted to come out and play; it was so overwhelming that at one point I sat down on a boulder and cried. I felt so stupid when one of the boys who had been drinking came over to make sure I was OK. He offered to get me some wine, but I really didn’t need to add to my problems. I expected him to leave after that, but he didn’t. We talked for a little bit & I told him about my move from the woods to suburbia. He said that it sounded like I needed a walk in the woods.
His name was Jake and he was a junior in High school. Jake and I took a walk along the side of the stream at the very back of the empty lot. He showed me where an owl was sleeping (I’d scented her already, but let Jake think he’d “discovered” he), and we turned over a few rotting logs and fallen branches. We saw worms, centipedes, wood lice and even a couple of salamanders – a blue spotted one and a black-and-white one I’d never seen before – Jake said it was a marbled salamander. He was impressed that I was careful to replace the log first, and then let the salamanders wriggle back under it, rather than put the amphibian down first, then replace the log.
We went back to the parking lot, where this one girl, Jessie gave me the “hairy eyeball” because I’d been walking with Jake. He noticed it too, and winked at me. He’d told me as we’d walked that he and Jessie had dated a few times, but she wasn’t into animals, the woods and dirt the way he was. Jake wanted to become a conservation biologist.
Andy had come out of the parish dining hall to tell us that dinner was ready. Jessie came over to Jake and me, and grabbed Jake’s arm.
“You’re sitting next to me, Jake. We have to talk about the next teen retreat.” She gave me a look that clearly indicated that I was not invited. I was going to move away when Jake grabbed my hand and turned it so that my hand was on top of his. His thumb rubbed my palm, and he pulled my hand up to his lips. He didn’t really kiss it; it just looked as if he did. He winked at me again, and I knew he was doing this just to tick off Jessie.
“You’d better remember to wash your hands before dinner. I really admire a gal that’s not afraid to get dirt under her fingernails. Thanks for finding that marbled salamander with me, he said. Jessie tugged at his other arm, and he let go of my hand.
I couldn’t help but notice that he ended up sitting by his parents for dinner.
Before he left, Jake came over to say goodbye. He also told me that I should get into the habit of walking in a park or some woods, because it would make me feel better.
I felt as if I was keeping a promise, taking a walk in the sanctuary. It was good once I got there. Night had fallen, and birds were settling down. I could scent a raccoon family nearby. Dogs had been walked here this afternoon, and a coyote had wandered here too. There were deer browsing, and turkeys settling down for the night. No people were out and about – I suppose everyone had spent the day shopping and were too tired to do much outdoors.
So how does a shape-shifter manage a change in the suburbs? Not to easily, let me tell you. I don’t know this place well enough yet. Where can I safely stash clothes? The ground’s wet, but I was smart enough to bring a plastic bag… There was this one laurel bush, not too far from the path that was kind of hollowed out near the ground. Since I was in the middle of nowhere, I just stepped behind a holly bush, took my jacket & everything else off, & stuffed it into that plastic bag. I stowed that under the laurel & shifted…
Suddenly, the world smelled so much more interesting! I took off for a run. It was exhilarating, feeling, seeing, smelling and tasting in this form. As I prowled the area, I realized that the animals around here had never encountered the likes of me. Yet I smelled their fear, and sensed them hunkering down or moving away as I came near. I wonder how they know I could be dangerous, if they’ve never scented me before. Is it genetic conditioning, or shared memory, like crows have? Do you doubt that shared memory exists in crows? Look it up. If you hurt a crow in front of other crows, they will avoid the scene of the crime for generations, but will remember the face. Biologists did an experiment harassing crows while wearing masks, and the crows would attack ANYONE wearing that type of mask on campus after that. One masked student reported being mobbed by a murder of crows, even though he hadn’t been part of the original experiment.
I climbed a tree, startling an owl. It was so cool to be able to run free. The sanctuary was still close to suburbia, and I could smell the car exhaust, smoke from fireplaces, and the charcoal broil and fries from the local diner’s exhaust fans, but I was free to run. I suppose it’s like swimming in a pool after having the whole ocean to play in, but for now, I suppose it will have to do.
Naturally, I’ll notice the differences for quite some time. The lack of pheasant and grouse is weird to me. I mean, at home in PA (why do I still insist on thinking of PA as home?) the woods have all three species. Here there’s only turkey. Lots of them – it’s a big flock I scent. Funny, I think they used to be extinct here & were reintroduced….kind of like me.
After a couple of hours, I go back to the laurel bush, and nip at the plastic bag, dragging it with my teeth over behind the holly bush. I change back, and get re-dressed.
Back at the house, Aunt Lina is still at the computer. She looks up, sniffs, and realizes where I’ve been. I braced myself for a bearish explosion of temper (there’s been a couple of times lately….did I mention that Facebook page?) But it doesn’t happen. With a look and a nod, I get that she knows what I’ve done, and she’s cool with me shifting out there tonight.
I also realize something else; while out exploring tonight, there was another scent that was missing.
Bear.
Aunt Lina hadn’t shifted yet, either!
As I got ready for bed, I wondered how she’s feeling – I mean it’s tough when you don’t shift for a while. Was that the reason for her temper? Maybe that’s another thing I’ll have to ask her about. Even though I was born to this, she’s been living it for far, far longer than anyone else I know (not that I know many shifters….) and I suddenly understood just how lucky I was to have Aunt Lina as a guardian. And a mentor. I heard her slip out around midnight, and woke up at about 3 am when she peeked into my room. The scent of bear was lingering on her. It made me feel comforted. I definitely had much to thank God for on Thanksgiving weekend.
Until my next post…
Randi
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