It is folly to ignore the cry when Nature calls.
Now, get your heads out of the lavatory and out of doors instead. (No, not outhouses, and stop being so silly…for the moment.)
Today, I had a long shift at Tabby’s Place. Someone called out, so I was called in early and was eager to help. Because of…things…it was a quiet day on the volunteer side, which meant a lot of time alone to concentrate inward while focusing energy Tabward (jovial conversation — extolling the virtues of kimchee and ramen — with our fearless leader Jonathan notwithstanding).
After the ALL of it, I drove home through our beautiful county. The roll and sway of the Piedmont, sliding behind even as it surged ahead, was showing off its full autumnal glory. And, when I pulled up in front of my house, the nearest old pine in the copse was basking in the late afternoon sun and beckoned me to join it.
As the wind turned chill and bracing, I thought of moving inside, but a squirrel carrying an acorn had just bounded by, and my thoughts turned to the Tabby’s cats who feel this kind of call of nature as strongly as I do.
More than a few of them were in their solaria at that exact moment, breathing the same air, watching different squirrels scurrying by bearing acorns cast off by different oak trees.
The colors of autumn do not strike the cats’ eyes as they do mine. Yet the redolent scents must be more intense for them. I can imagine Carrot‘s and Wilbur‘s noses twitching as the sharp scent of pine and soil tickled their sweet little boopers.
Nemo might have been distracted enough by the change in the smell of the leaves to stop chasing the ball that I hope he was batting around.
Alas, and despite my very cozy buffalo plaid flannel shirt and comfortable jeans, the drop in temperature bade me join my family within warmer walls.
Not so our furred friends at Tabby’s Place. The lovers of the solaria stay outside as much as possible until winter prevails. When the plexiglass is reinstalled and the overhead passages are barricaded, they will be forced within. But only for a time.
The seasons will march forward. Spring will return.
And, they, those heartiest of fuzzy souls will be at the ready when a gentler, greener Nature calls.