A Letter To Charles

This is the second in a series of letters to Charles.

 

 

 

January 25, 2010

 

 

Dear Charles,

 

Thanks for your card.  It finally made it's way to the Grand Canyon.  Happy 2010! 

We have had another casualty, not all that uncommon for this time of year.  It appears to have been this sad man's final new year's resolution.  He drove right up to one of the canyon's major viewpoints and quickly parked his car.  Reports are that without hesitation he got out of his car, took off running down the path and did a full swan dive straight into the canyon.  I just looked up the word"swan" in the Webster dictionary and it is defined as a large, white swimming bird with a gracefully curved neck, and with "swan song," as being the last work or performance. Personally, I think it was a selfish thing to do right in front of other visitors, including children.  Imagine if you and your family had planned and saved up for this wonderful visit to the Grand Canyon, possibly traveling from across the world, only to be standing right there when the swan dive took place, forced to watch this stranger's last performance.  This makes four, already, since the first of the year.  Not uncommon.

Little Mia was visiting last weekend.  She is two and a half already.  We were in the living room with me sitting in my chair knitting a new sock.  Mia was standing next to me by the big window that looks out into the backyard and on into the woods.  I was involved in counting heel stitches and thought Miss Mia was watching Old Yeller on the tv in front of us.

"Oh, that is so cute," said Mia.

"Mmmm.  Uh huh," I absently acknowledged without looking up from my knitting, still counting stitches.  "What is cute?"

"The kitty cat."

I was still counting as I asked Mia, "What kitty cat?"

"That one," she said, pointing toward the big window and the backyard.

I stopped counting and my eyes grew wide as I sucked in a deep breath of realization, abruptly throwing my knitting to the floor.  Mia was not talking about the tv.  I jerked my head toward the window in time to see a fleshy long-bodied Bobcat standing by the pinion tree just beyond the porch.

"Oh Mia," I cried, "that is a big, big kitty cat."

Old Bob stood there just long enough to scour the backyard and the woods for a possible meal.  He was hunting.  Moments later he was on the move, slinking low through the yard and into the trees.  It was the first time, in ten years of living here at the Grand Canyon, that I have seen a Bob and Mia's, "cute kitty cat," story has spread among the locals, an uncommon event.

Well darling, the day is calling me.  I must close and get ready to go greet the canyon visitors.  I never know what to expect from day to day,  rumors of another "swan dive" or unexpected visits from our wild friends here at the canyon.  Either way, life continues to be interesting.

 

Love, C.

Reviews

[Zachary_James]

Great