in the area. On the back porch, from inside a big plastic container filled with kibble, she scooped out enough to fill a small plastic bucket and carried it out to her yard. She set the bucket on the ground beside a dish of water, then lingered.
The hedges around her backyard gave her a sense of privacy and containment in the darkness of the fall night. Leaves on the four trees in her large back yard rustled. She breathed in deeply, savoring the crisp feel of air. This is what she’d wanted, the feeling of being home, enveloped by warm memories of growing up in this home with her parents and having space and privacy to do whatever she wanted.
A full moon in the starry night bathed the yard in a soft glow. She started imagining the things she could do here. Maybe even dance in the moonlight. The thought lifted her mood.
Why not?
Humming to herself, Michelle sunk into the sounds, scents, and feelings of the moment, and began moving to her inner music. She was free, alone here in her own yard. Nothing to worry about. Tension seeped away from her muscles. She slowly turned to a rhythm inside her, savoring the sense of self that rose in her, her eyes closed.
A noise from the bushes crackled, and instantly her muscles tensed. Still and on alert, Michelle peered through the darkness. It could be a stray, she thought, seeking food. If it was a homeless cat, it was too late to prevent scaring it. A movement of any sort would send it running.
So she stood still in the spot, waiting and squinting her eyes for a better look.
She held her breath, and as she did, a large figure of a furry animal slipped silently through the hedge, away from her.
Automatically, her hand slapped over her mouth. Her heart raced. Her breath came in deliberate pulls. That figure, that animal, was not at all what she’d expected to appear out of the shadows. She dropped her hand to her side and stepped cautiously toward the spot where the animal had disappeared.
The hedge bordered her half-acre backyard and split it from the rest of her property. The place in the hedge where the animal slipped through meant a short walk away from the security of her house, but she’d be damned if she was going to let that deter her from a possible identification of that animal.
She shivered in the cold air, taking measured steps to the spot, her senses perched on the edge of her nerves. She noticed a small opening in the hedge. The large animal would have had to crouch low to the ground to get through. She leaned low and tried to see through to the other side, but she saw nothing but dry weeds.
The hedge stood about to her chin, so standing on tiptoe, Michelle searched the field on the other side for another glimpse of the animal.
“Geez!” She instinctively took a step back when her gaze collided with the animal as it sat still in the field, barely visible. Inexplicably, it sat motionless, staring at her.
Can it see me?
she wondered. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She longed to get a better look, but she didn’t dare slip through the hedge. It seemed completely at ease, sitting there staring at her through glistening eyes.
Dare she speak? Fairly mesmerized, Michelle whispered to the animal. “I mean you no harm.”
She waited. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, so she focused them on the figure. It looked to have a large body covered with thick fur. Its head had a feline appearance and ears tipped with dark tufts of fur.
Distinctive markings of a lynx
.
Chills rolled up and down her spine. She couldn’t explain why she wasn’t afraid, other than the vibes she was picking up across the space between her and the animal were gentle, not threatening.
“I mean you no harm,” she repeated.
The animal chuffed, then stood and began walking into the woods at the outskirts of her property. She didn’t move, instead taking in its graceful walk. A few steps away, it stopped, twisted its head around to look at her, and chuffed again. A few more steps
Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant