The Rustling In The Hedge

Maybe this strange Autumnal weather is getting to me. The calendar says it's nearly spring, but something seems off. The days are hot, but there is the edge of a chill underneath. Sound travels for miles, low to the ground. The barkings of dogs echo the way they do in Fall. The birds are nesting and the wildflowers are out, and yet the greenish-yellow-orangey-brown foilage seems all wrong. The leaves are falling. It just doesn't look or feel like Spring.

The live oaks losing their leaves is normal in warm weather. I know this only because I checked with the forest service. It's not something I can remember seeing, masses of brown leaves whirling and fluttering down the road. So many you'll slip if you try to walk. In late Summer, maybe. Not at this time of year.

It might be normal for live oaks, but that doesn't explain the color of the maple tree in the yard, or the senna leaves turning orange in the fields. So orange it almost looks artificial. But it's not, and it's all over in the neighborhood. I checked on that, too, but this time there is no explanation at hand. The local variety of senna is remarkably sturdy. It has green leaves that fold up at night and puts out yellow flowers like clockwork. Drought won't kill it, animals won't eat it, it goes through its regular pattern year after year. Except this year. Maybe it's just El Nino, or La Nina, or whichever cycle we're in now. Maybe things have just been knocked off kilter for the moment.

Though the agarita seems right on time with its blossoms and needle sharp leaves

But of course I'm just delaying what I've come here to say. Circling round and round the point, hoping to find some comfortable place to land. Even knowing full well there is no comfortable place. 

Yeah, maybe the strange Autumnal weather is just getting to me. The way things just feel wrong. Maybe it's nothing, but last night, right after dusk, I heard a rustling in the hedge. 

Well, that's no big deal, really. There are lots of things that can rustle a hedge. Birds, cats, skunks...there's even a little fox who comes around at night, sometimes. The thing in the hedge was bigger, though. Maybe the size of a deer, by the sound of it, even though I should have seen anything as big as that. 

The whatever-it-was burst out of the hedge and raced across the yard, but even though I was looking,I could see nothing. Then, there was more rustling, this time from the rock garden behind me. I turned to look, but again, nothing. Suddenly the rustling came from the patch of grass just to my left. I was staring right at it. Still, there was not a thing to see, not even leaves stirred by the wind. 

I was getting the impression it might be time to go inside, so I headed up the path toward the house. I began to feel slightly annoyed, though. What was causing these happenings around the yard? There was a mystery here, and it seemed  remiss not to investigate at least a minute longer. I retraced my steps back to the driveway. 

Down the road, a largish, light-colored animal was barrelling toward our end of the street. It might have been a deer, but judging from the awkward, heavy gait, was more likely an escaped goat. It was in a panic, by the way it zigzagged back and forth. It crashed into the neighbor's fence and bounced off the barbed wire and  foliage. Then it was gone. Gone? How could it be gone, without a sound or any movement of the trees and brush? Nevertheless, it was. I stared at the spot where the animal had been, thinking that this must be the answer. As unlikely as it seemed, it must have been an errant goat crashing around making those noises. How I managed not to see it would require more thought, but that would keep for later

I turned to go back to the house.

The rustling rushed up behind me, fast. I could hear feet and claws on the paving stones as it ran and could feel it coming up on my heels. I jumped forward, immediately thinking of the neighbor's rottweiler, even though it's a sweet old dog that wouldn't hurt a fly. But it seemed so big and so fast, that rottweiler seemed the most logical conclusion as to what was chasing me.

Despite the surge of adrenaline zipping up my spine, a quick glance behind showed an empty pathway.

 I climbed the porch steps and surveyed the yard. Now the rustling seemed to come from all around. It was in the shrubbery and the bushes and the flower beds. It was out there in the middle of the yard, where there was nothing, no visual to explain the sound. The sound was just there.

It occurred to me that maybe it wasn't a panicked goat that had caused the noise, but that it was something out there - the thing making the noise - that had panicked the goat. Perhaps some sort of  damned thing- like creature was about to wreak havoc on the lawn. There's nothing like existential fear to inspire creative imaginings. But even so...

I recited the prayer for all sentient beings to be released from suffering and gradually the rustling stopped. Finally, I went inside and nothing else strange happened for the rest of the night.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was my imagination, or some weird weather pattern stirring up odd breezes in hedges and making both goats and humans uneasy.  I don't know. But to tell you the truth, I don't think I will sleep soundly until this false autumn is over and real spring comes at last.