Chirp

The colony of house finches thriving in the trees outside our bedroom windows begins the chirping frenzy around 530/6am and they never fail to wake me up—but I beat them to their cacophony this morning, fueled into consciousness by thoughts of Big Foot in that mountain man’s yard, staring at barking dogs while the man shouted from his house for Big Foot to vacate the premises.

Hermit is what the press and the self-proclaimed ‘mountain man’ meant. A hermit yelled at Big Foot to ‘git’ and shook a big stick at him—one terrified hermit suddenly up close and personal with his isolation. He was scared and un-hermit-like enough to call the police and suggest they come on out and check the property (see, a mountain man wouldn’t have had a phone—and a proper hermit would have invited Big Foot inside for hot soup—see Frankenstein movie, or even Young Frankenstein movie). I’ve read that Big Foot types scream, too (click here for fascinating screaming action). What if Big Foot had turned from the dogs and just started screaming at the hermit shaking a stick at him? I think about this, scratched-record-style, when ruminating on this particular Big Foot encounter. Look: I have no desire to hunt for Big Foot. I don’t want to find him staring at my goofy Labrador in the dead of night. I don’t want him pounding my indestructible Big Foot and bullet proof RV when we’re on a family camping trip, although I don’t think Big Foot pounds much, just screams and makes X-like ‘keep out’ signs with branches in forests from North Carolina to Oregon to Nepal and crunches noisy underbrush as he flees cameras. What nags me in the wee morning hours before house finches start their chirping is: Did Big Foot know the hermit didn’t have a mountain man’s gun? Only a stick? We don’t know Big Foot, but just how well does he know us?

What is Big Foot doing right now? Contemplating a berry in his furry palm and dreaming of dog meat? Squinting at the moon? Can Big Foot squint? Will Big Foot ever lumber out from those trees and make contact that doesn’t involve scaring dogs and hermits? Hopefully not while I’m hiking or showing my son Gold’s Beach where that one schoolbus driver lady said she saw Big Foot studying wild ocean…Why she was near the beach with her schoolbus is also a mystery to me…No, I don’t always get my facts straight…Facts? Big Foot, hermits who call themselves mountain men, roaming schoolbus drivers…What is this world?

My son starts Kindergarten a week from today.

I am affected.

He's all: Good morning!

He’s all: Hi!

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About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, activist, fortunate.
This entry was posted in Avoiding My Writing, Children's Books, Fiction, middle grade, Poetry, Writing, WTF and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Words do not escape you

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