Jodi doesn’t like bats much. I, on the other hand, find them fascinating (and totally appreciate their insectivorous appetites).
Some folks freak out when our little neighborhood bats flit about at sundown, but tonight, I found them strangely meditative. A couple of things had gone wrong – not big things, just particular things that really shouldn’t have happened, and that I specifically issued instructions to avoid – and I was at the end of my leash, growling, barking, snapping and slobbering.
I knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with the young’ns, so Jodi took over and I stepped out on the deck. I could hear the cicadas and frogs in the grass, and strange sonic clicks in the air all around. I sat very still. Generally after a few moments, the bats are darting here and there overhead, and you can only catch quick glimpses of them against the darkening sky.
Tonight, however, I saw just one, flying almost casually in a light, looping pattern along a more-or-less straight line, so I could track him until he disappeared past the neighbor’s old oak tree. His path seemed to write in cursive a pointed question to me: Sooooo?
The loopy little devil was right. It wasn’t that big a deal …