The Slice

Some signs of season heard, not seen

Sometimes our neighbor's cat appears on the front porch as if Scotty beamed her down from the starship Enterprise.

One moment you're checking the mailbox or whatever and she's nowhere to be seen. And then, out of thin air, she materializes at your feet. If the door is cracked open, she might just appear as a gray blur on her way in to investigate opportunities for seafood treats.

But last night, I could tell she was coming.

Long after dark, I opened the front door and looked out. That's when I heard it.

The sound out there in the blackness was not really a rustling. It was more like a fast series of little splashes.

She was on her way. But because the yard is covered with leaves from our maple tree, I could hear her running. The leaves robbed her of her usual stealth.

I guess it's about time to do a little raking.

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The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.





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