Where do you look when you walk? You are supposed to look ahead of you, head up, shoulders back, with good posture. I tend to look down more than I should, because my astigmatism plus bifocals means I can’t trust flat to be flat, or for curbs to stay where they are supposed to. Looking down means I end to find change more than most people do (although never a $20 bill like Sib did once.) Recently, though, I’ve seen some amusing things in trees.
These are not tall trees, but smaller trees with horizontal branches at about eye-level on me. So Sunday evening, after sampling one casserole too many at a pot-luck social (Are you going to tell the congregation’s dowager, She Who Rules the Kitchen, that you did not at least sample both dishes that she brought? Me either.) I went for a walk. Low gray clouds had built in during the afternoon and even I did not have to worry about sunburn. I started out going south. After a few blocks I came to a house that has pine trees and some nice landscaping that always reminds me of the Midwest, all shady and with lots of cool-season flowers. I noticed a bluejay racing away from one of the pines, and peered sideways in time to see the Cheshire Cat.
OK, not the real thing, but a calico cat crouching on the pine bough in the exact pose of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.
We both looked at each other. I kept going and the cat continued doing whatever she was doing (probably waiting to jump down on one of the little fluffy dog-ettes that live around the area.)
A few days later the clouds returned with heavy drizzle and generally miserable weather. Perfect for me to go strolling, this time in a different direction. As I sauntered along, I noticed a young mockingbird trying to pick something up out of the road. It looked like a piece of plastic or pale bark, and was about the size of the bird’s head. Size means nothing to mockingbirds, and he tried valiantly. As I got closer he dropped the thing and shot up into a low growing pecan tree. I ducked under a branch and as I straightened up, I could see the mockingbird, now fluffed up and ready for a fight, on one of the branches just below eye level.
I did not try to take him on. I know who would have won.
Besides, there was a second mockingbird (Mom?) further back in the tree. Two mockingbirds in a pecan tree is probably a project of Texas Tourism or something.