I climb over the near metal gate of the front corral. The night is a balmy one and the moon is dressed in a hazy cloak. April has been a soggy one and the fields have grown fast and tall. One carries packets of mud beneath their boots between the treads while walking and it seems as if the ground will never become dry again. I have come to the barnyard very late in the evening. It is my fourth or fifth trip looking and calling for one of my cats. She is safe and well but searching for mice and toads beneath the vapor light of the barn loft and not responding to my request to hurry forward and return with me to the house. Earlier, I'd heard a coyote coming up the eastern end of North Bridges Creek a little too near for my liking. He (or she) had howled a half-dozen times or so coming along. It bothered me that my female long-haired cat was still outdoors. The llamas were on guard. The cattle were roaming and grazing out in the south pasture. All was as it should be, however, I still worried for the fact and the combination that my cat (Daisy) was out playing in the shadows of the barnyard while a springtime coyote or two hunted beneath the glow of the late April moonlight. The chances of her getting in trouble were slim but I'd decided to bring the large Coleman lantern-style flashlight and my shotgun along on this particular visit anyway.
Suddenly a large barred-owl lofted above me in the night sky and I heard the sound of the wings as I took notice of it moving across the open air until it had found its way to a network of branches across the corral from me. I stared into the blackness and saw the winged hunter perched and looking down at me. It was unafraid and it continued to stare down at me. I wished I had thought to bring my digital camera along in my pocket. Next I moved slowly and quietly until I stood nearly beneath the brown, wide-eyed fellow. I looked up and its head circled a bit back and forth and then out of nowhere it spread its wings and flew away off across the wide pasture towards the waters of the creek. It was a marvel! I next saw my cat in the barn chasing after a mouse or two and knew that all was well but I wondered at that moment if that owl had not decided to see if a twelve pound cat could not be had while she played in the dim light of the yard.
I returned to the house that night a little later with lantern and rifle. My cat (Daisy) remained in the barn that evening. The following morning I took notice of her fast asleep on one of the piled square bales of the barn's interior. I was happy for her safety as well as a little miffed at her refusal to come to my beckoning commands from the night before. I walked by her slumber and went about my chores, -feeding the goats, the steers and bringing in the llamas for their breakfast. As I stepped out into the front wood fencing of the corral I took notice of a male and female Cardinal bird. They were mates not doubt. This time I had brought along my camera and so pulled it from my pocket and took a couple of quick snaps. It was spring in the Ozarks of Missouri. The sky was blue and fresh. All about the birds sang and spoke their wonderful language. The leaves were growing on the elm and sycamore and cottonwood. The wind puffed in a balmy sunny fashion. My llamas looked at me as they ate their grain and alfalfa roughage. It was nice. It was very nice. Things are so much better in the light of the day. This was for certain. -RSC, Elijah, Missouri.
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