alvin & the narcoleptic chipmunks

I came home for the couple of weeks between Spring semester and Summer Session I, thinking I'd have some time to relax, get some administrative stuff done in my life, etc.  What I once again failed to realize is that when I'm NOT home, nothing seems to get accomplished.  I always show up to a laundry list of items that need to be completed (including laundry itself) and end up spending the majority of my time completing those tasks.  I don't generally mind though, because I live here for free and if I just sat around I'd probably lose it.  I just like whining.


So yesterday I was trimming the hedges out front.  We live in the 'burbs, so we do have some wildlife.  I heard a scramble going on behind me, and turned to see what was going on.  Two particularly small chipmunks were playing near the driveway.  "Oh, that's cute" I thought to myself.  "Baby chipmunks... they're so tiny."  And then, before my very eyes, one the the chipmunks went from full speed to a dead stop, and keeled over.


"Holy buckets!" I said aloud, "did that chipmunk just DROP DEAD before my eyes!?!?!"  Needless to say, I was kind of hysterical.  The other chipmunk immediately took off, and while I usually try to avoid anthropomorphizing wildlife, I couldn't help but imagine he was thinking "Mom said I was going to give Theodore a heart attack if I kept chasing him like that, NOW WHAT AM I GOING TO TELL HER!?!?"


Now I like to investigate things, and even more than that I like to rescue things.  I immediately walked over to the downed rodent, not really sure what I was going to do other than look at it's dead body and maybe toss it into the compost pile.  I know that sounds callous, but in all honesty I couldn't believe the thing was dead, I thought I had to be seeing things.


As I walked over, some of my worst fears were confirmed.  I could see that it was still breathing, which made me think, "Good grief... am I going to have to put this thing out of it's misery???"  I can't kill things, and I knew if this was the case I was going to have to go wake up my hibernating bear of a brother and have him do it for me.  I didn't like this scenario, so I did what any rational human being would do, I sat down next to the chipmunks limp body and started talking to it in my best "talking to animals" voice.  If you know me, you know the one I'm referring to.


"Hey little one," I crooned, "you should get up now."  Now I've never believed that I had any sort of magical power, and I certainly am not going to start at age 23.  But I will tell you, that as soon as I told that chipmunk to wake up, it flipped back onto it's stomach and just stared at me wide-eyed and confused.


Obviously I jumped a little, too.  "Oh my god! You're not dead!" I shouted, like the thing was actually going to reply with something like, "Of course I'm not dead, silly girl!  I just FAINTED IN YOUR DRIVEWAY!"


The chipmunk sat there checking me out for about 3 minutes before starting to move again.  It started inching away, and still concerned that it might be injured I poked it with a stick.  It turned and looked at me, then shot off into the woods and up a tree.  Completely unscathed.  Healthy, even.


Um, are you kidding me?  Did that chipmunk just PASS OUT in the driveway, and then come to and take off?  Does that even HAPPEN to chipmunks???  Needless to say, I stood in the driveway looking around for someone to tell me I wasn't crazy for about 5 minutes before going back to my original task of pruning the hedges.  I'm pretty upset nobody saw it, but it does make for a great story.  Narcoleptic chipmunks... now that would be a great children's book.


When I went to let my dog Hannah out this morning, there was a rabbit in the yard that she obviously saw before me and chased down.  All I could think was "Let's hope that rabbit isn't narcoleptic, because if so, she's a goner."  The rabbit escaped, but I can't help but think that maybe I should stop drinking the water.


Until next time...

here comes the rain again

I've always been intrigued by the thought of there being greater forces at work.  I don't mean this in an awkwardly philosophical sense, but just that life seems to work itself out one way or another.  Maybe I'm just really lucky... or maybe I'm just too delicate to not try and see the bright side of things.  Either way, the spring has brought with it a sense of renewal, as it usually does, and I'm finding it a lot easier to breathe these days.

I've hiked up Kent's Ledge (the small "mountain" I live at the bottom of) a few times since the nicer weather came back.  It's about a 30-45 minute hike, depending on how fast you're trying to go.  Yesterday was the first day I made it up since the leaves came back though, and the early morning light over the mountains and sugar maples made me feel a little sappy... no pun intended.  My hiking partner Zooey came along too, and while I think she was far more interested in how she could catch a squirrel, she really seemed to enjoy the view from the top as well.

I'm worried that someday she'll charge off a cliff, but I hold out hope that she's smart enough to know when to slow down.  I also can't bear to stop her from chasing things she'll never catch... it's really entertaining.

There was a mist over the valley below that I was a little agitated about at first, but upon further observation I realized that the mist was bringing in that fresh, wet leaves smell.  I wouldn't have wanted that to go away, so the mist and I made peace.

I forgot my actual camera, although the image quality on my cell phone is surprisingly good.  

And another shot through the trees on the other side of the rock.  It was a beautiful, clear day once the mist cleared.

So today, as is generally the case after a long period of hot, humid days, we're anxiously awaiting the requisite thunder shower.  The sky has been teasing me all day, and the anticipation is starting to get to me.  After a gorgeous weekend,  I can't think of a better way to wash off the stickiness than with a nice loud thunderstorm.  How refreshing.

I wonder if thunderstorms give others this same feeling.  I can't explain their effect on me, but it's almost like being on a carnival ride where they lift you up really high and then drop you into a free fall.  Not quite that dramatic, but along those same lines.  There's nothing like breathing in the cooler air that always follows a good storm.  

Another Vermont summer in store, and I can hardly wait.  

Listen to "Brand New Colony" by The Postal Service