On the evening of the meteor shower, my husband was content to see one shooting star. Then he went back inside, saying it was too cold. It was a bit chilly. I was so fascinated, I put on layers and dragged two chairs together so I could lie back and look. Tonight, my suburban fantasy came true when the couple of local deer I’ve seen in the neighborhood alighted in OUR back yard. My husband kind of knows how happy this made me. I just happened to be adjusting the blinds before turning in early for the night, when I noticed the deer. I called him. “David. There are deer in our yard!” I said it in a raspy voice, in case they could hear through our thin walls. They definitely noticed some movement in the house as we turned down the lights and spied on them. So graceful. So Bambi. “That’s awesome!” David said after taking a gander, and trotted off, back downstairs to the study to watch what sounded like clips of the Jon Stewart show.
I’ve pouted before about this difference between us. I love nature. I worship nature. I’m enraptured by it. I watched the deer until they leapt with ease over the log pile that separates our yard from the next, like they had unseen wings helping them float.
I know that the difference between us doesn’t have to be a great divide between us, but how do we resolve the difference in a win-win scenario?
Do I seek out other nature lovers and take an annual trip where we call staring slackjawed at the stars for hours in uncomfortable hides “fun”? Do I renew my subscription to National Geographic? (At my parents’ house, the issues date back to 1966.) Do I trek solo? I’d like to transmit and share my love of nature with David. I wish it were simply contagious. I hope it will be conveyed to our daughter and she digs.
Interestingly, I stand alone in my nuclear family on this topic, as well. That’s not altogether true; my mom fostered my innate interest in bugs by providing all sorts of nets and containers to capture and catalog specimens. She even hiked out to Foley’s Pond with me at midnight one autumn to try and catch a glimpse of the Leonids. She majored in biology. So, a love of science is there. I’m just not sure she has everyday chances to cultivate it… on the golf course. (Though, the skies above the 18th hole at their club are beautiful at night, after everyone’s gone to sleep. My dad hates when I trespass on the golf course behind their house. I suppose it would be a little embarrassing to come collect your 36-year-old daughter at the guard house at 12:30AM…)
We’re headed to Florida in February, just the baby and me, while hubby is on Assignment #3 in L.A. So, stay tuned for exotic tales from the manicured gardens of Boca Raton.
That's me on the right in a beehive in the Ecuadorian Amazon. 1997