Thursday, September 29, 2011

Do You See What I See?

A pair of them came calling at the sliding glass door one evening after dark, as curious about me and my light as I was about them and their noise.   Or maybe they've learned that light at night in a house that is commonly dark might mean good trash.   Whether they were more curious or expectant,  I was all curiosity from my side of the door.  First came a great deal of leaf rustling outside on the deck, then a scritch scratch on the glass, then two sets of front paws pressed against the glass, followed by two adorable raccoon faces peering back at me.   I leaned over the arm of my big comfy reading chair to get a better look at them.  The light from my reading lamp shone directly on them for a clear view.  We were less than two feet apart, but they didn't run.  Quite the opposite.

They pulled up straight with deadpan faces, turned to glance at each other, then back at me---not unlike those funny tv commercials where someone says something inane and the other person responds with a  blink that says the statement has registered, but the receiver doesn't immediately know what to make of it.  That's how the raccoons responded to my face in the glass.  I laughed out loud.  They calmly backed down and walked away.

It's a lovely comical memory from my recent writing retreat on Wilmington Island,  and I send my gratitude to good friends Paul and Carla for the use of their vacation home overlooking the Wilmington marsh.  It is for me a place for rest, reflection, and slow passage of time.  A sacred place free of tv, radio, news, music, calendar, and interruptions.  A place to feel fully steeped in the simple complexity of the natural world---none of it remotely interested in me or my writing---with the possible exception of the raccoons---all of it alive with the energy of the universe.  A place that offers the luxury of burrowing deep into story and staying there, day and night, and sooner or later, despite powerful avoidance strategies, to write.  Six more chapters drafted.

Thanks, Paul and Carla.  Your names will be in the acknowledgment page if this manuscript ever gets whittled enough to find a publisher!  dkm

12 comments:

Jane Robertson said...

Little do we know who is watching us in the night! A lovely story. I hope the raccoons went back to tell THEIR story to friends and family...

I have a somewhat similar, but less benign, tale (tail).

'It is for me a place for rest, reflection, and slow passage of time. A sacred place free of tv, radio, news, music, calendar, and interruptions. A place to feel fully steeped in the simple complexity of the natural world------all of it alive with the energy of the universe.'

This captures, for me, the beauty of 'slow' living. I love the paradox 'simple complexity'. Perfect.

dkm said...

I love your intentional ideal of slow living---and wish it were more possible to achieve in daily life---seems I have to go away to manage it---but always working to find the right balance at home. Here's to "simple complexity" in our own realities!

Will look forward to your less benign raccoon tail tale.

Niki said...

Awwww so cute :)We have sliding glass doors too. At nights a little mouse runs along, stopping every so often to put his paws on the glass and peer in. I hate to think what might happen if the doors were left open :O But with five fat cats sprawled inside, it would have to be a very brave little mouse.

dkm said...

Five cats!

Ha ha---I thought you were about to say you could have kissed the brave little mouse through the glass.

Mike B. said...

We have raccoons at our backyard sliding glass door quite often. Once they even scratched like my cats do when they want to come in.

dkm said...

:-) Do you let them in? They'd make a great video on Slugyard.com :-) My neighbor had one come in through her cat door and sit on top of her swinging kitchen door.

bibi said...

You have had a wonderful Summer O' Retreats, and visited some lovely spots. and I have enjoyed each and every one.

Niki said...

Thank goodness your gorgeous blog is back!!! :) Us kiwis were so worried.

bibi said...

I was worried; glad you are back.

Elizabeth McKenzie said...

Raccoons aren't the best people to hang with. Good thing you kept the door closed. They are fun to watch, though.

Patricia Lichen said...

Six more chapters! Whoo-hoo! My congratulations (added to the deadpan responses of your visitors)!

dkm said...

LOL---thanks, Patricia! I'm getting closer to celebrating---now just two and a half chapters from the end--I think :-)