Visit to an old farm

Since Monday it has been raining almost nonstop. Creeks are swollen, lakes have spilled over their boundaries, a pond has formed in our backyard... and still it rains. I debated about running out back and splashing in the puddles like I would have as a kid, but my adult brain rebelled at the thought of getting cold and wet, since the temperatures have been in the 40s. So, instead, I delved into memories. Below is an excerpt from a nature journal I kept a few years ago:

Sometimes I have the privilege of seeing animals by chance; while at other times I spend hours waiting to see an animal. There is a particular old farm that I enjoy visiting. Though it lacks the hustle and bustle of busier days, it is still being used as storage and various animals have taken up residence in the nook and crannies of the place. I never know what I might see if I quietly wait long enough.

Today, I positioned myself slightly out of the way by one of the walls. From this vantage point I could see the fields as well as the barn yard. The evening was peaceful and I relaxed as I observed the distant horses grazing in the pasture. A few minutes later I heard something behind me, so I slowly turned around just in time to watch a skunk amble by not five feet from where I stood. I was pretty excited about such a close encounter.

I waited with baited breath hoping to see some other creature pass by because I could hear them stirring, but could not see anything. My patience was rewarded when a young raccoon walked by. However, instead of continuing his journey, he noticed me and stopped. At first he eyed me cautiously. Then he stood on his hind legs and stretched forward, as though to get a better view. I was downwind from the raccoon, so he could not smell me.

Little by little he crept forward, pausing at every other step to sit back and stare at me. At one point his upper body stretched far out while his hind legs remained anchored to one spot as though he did not dare to move forward. His unbalanced posture looked so comical. I resisted the urge to laugh but then I felt like I had to scratch my nose, nevertheless I remained perfectly still. How close would he actually come, I wondered. Two feet left between us, and the raccoon kept creeping forward ever so slowly. I could now clearly see his bright little eyes looking inquisitively at me. His nose twitched continuously as he tried to identify me. His fur looked thick and healthy.

He was cute, but I was concerned about his potential reaction if he came too close and all of a sudden found out I was a human. So, when we had only about 1 ½ feet left between us, I made a soft churring noise. At this, the raccoon stopped, ears alert. Once again I made a little noise as warning that I was a living, breathing creature. His eyes grew wide and he stumbled back a couple of steps. He paused to stare at me once again, perplexed yet suspicious. I remained motionless as I watched him slowly turn and walk away. As he disappeared around the corner, I took a deep breath and savored the moment. What an incredible encounter!

A sense of curiosity is nature’s original school of education.
~Smiley Blanton