Late yesterday, I went poking through the bush pretending I was Jane Goodall minus the chimps. Buff came bursting in earlier from school, "I need pants, I need shoes, I need my hat, I need food, I need to get to Town in half an hour."
I had been planning to photograph some plants, which may or may not be on an endangered or extinct species list here in Ontario, over in the bush on The Farm where I grew up. After dropping Buff off at The Chicken Place in Town, I headed back to the bush at The Farm.
I was squatting down, bending waaaay over, because all the red Trilliums were all nodding their heads and I wanted to see their faces - when my telephone rang.
"Are you busy?"
"It's about One Old Man."
My friend The Doctor chit chatted a few minutes and then asked, "What are you doing?"
I'm pretending to be Jane Goodall minus the chimps. I even wore my long sleeved black turtleneck."
I went back to the shy Red Trilliums.
It was coolish and the sun kept dipping in and out so I had on my heavier red jacket. My purse was slung crossways over my body. The camera was hooped around my neck, the spare lens stuffed into my pocket and the van keys on a chain around my neck. Really? Really. The last thing you want to do is lose your car keys in the bush.
Anyhow. I was thinking about lying right down, carefully, so as to not crush some possibly extinct plant and get a snail's eye view of these trilliums when I heard branches snapping and a cough. She was quite fat - fatter than Decadent Housewife after a long winter of too many Raisin Cinnamon Sticky Buns - carried a bulging white bag stuffed with what I supposed were wild leeks and wore a bright orange construction vest with yellow reflector tape. No one would mistake her for Bambi - that's for sure.
I straightened up to get a better look and imagined she was from the neighbouring campground because I know all the farmer's wives and she wasn't one of them. Anyhow, no farmer's wife would be out at suppertime crashing through the neighbour's bushlot wearing a safety vest.
And when you meet somebody in the bush they stop and talk. She was running away. So. She was up to no good. She must have caught sight of me because when I motioned and called out she really began hoofing it, cracking and crashing and coughing.
I made a louder HALLO! but she picked it up disappearing west over the ridge near the south end of the pond. Had I been in a less contemplative mood, and had there been less stuff hanging off my body, I may have followed after her, but it really would not have been possible to catch up without slashing and burning as she was.
She clearly had forgotten that if you find yourself walking through a bush, any bush, make sure you first have permission and secondly, don't plough through it like a - a fat lady dragging her booty of stolen leeks. I went back to my photo and note taking and was especially intrigued with some noddy little violets, vivid blues and yellows - most delicate, all appearing in patches, when my concentration was broken by a dirt bike.
I got back up again. He slowed - could be a friend of Buff's. He looked a little afraid which is funny because nobody can outrun a dirt bike, especially Decadent Housewife laden down with all the stupid stuff she drags off into the bush with her so as to document itty bitty extinct flora and fauna.
We stared deciding what to do next. He seemed confused, like he intended to ride through the bush but I had startled him foiling the plan. It was then I sort of deja vued a recurring dream I've had since childhood. Decadent is out somewhere on The Farm minding her own business when this big fat butt, honking truck appears - and - it - is - going - to CRu - sh me!? And rrrun no matter how fast, little or big Decadent tries to run, she - can - not, get away.
He started up again and turned to his left, sl -o- wly following the bush perimeter. We both kept our eyes fixed on each other. He sl -o- wly turned and sl -o- wly rode between the east field and the bush disappearing south toward Town and the gravel pits and the police.
There was a time when I went to the bush to get away from people. That seems quite extinct now but hopefully, I'll quit having that bad dream now too.
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