Two by Two

They are at it again, these mallards. Orange webbed feet sludging through a giant mud puddle of tall grasses. They join me every morning and I laugh because the pristine lake is a quarter mile away. I’d take the wide-open lake over a buggy, dirty puddle myself. But yes, I act like this too sometimes, can’t see the lake for the puddle. I get you, ducks.

It is nature day on the trail this morning. Everyone is moving two by two, like the famous ark scene, but without the rain. Or the imposing old man. As far as humans, I have the trail to myself: the cheese runs alone.

Two deer cross my path, eyeing me suspiciously. Would there be any other way, for the most majestic of creatures to see this humanoid huffing and puffing her way down the path? The deer must have really been wondering. They don’t move out of the way as I loudly approach. For a minute I am frightened: Bambi Attacks (Very Slow) Jogger. News at 11. But we make our peace as I run by, a place on the path for each.

There are two robins, two garden variety black birds, two cardinals, one the most astonishing of reds. They cavort and bounce in the morning’s warmth.

The sun rises through the trees and I can see the reddened sky over the lake. A glorious way to start the morning. My dad echoes in my head from miles away: “It's all part of nature, you see.”

Yep, he got it, set me on this path to look with a young girl’s wonder even when my knees are telling me I am not so youthful anymore.

I pass the deer again. They let me get closer this time. My own little audience watching me from atop the little hill where they stand. I am sure they are cheering on the inside.

Two birds overhead reflect the mirrored light of the new sun’s rays, all white and celestial on their undersides like that dove from the ark.

Once again I pass the puddle. The ducks join me on the path as I pass. And yes, I can run slightly faster than they can waddle. Another one of my dad’s favorite sayings comes to mind: “You with the webbed feet, get out of the pool.”

And then it hits me. The cheese really isn’t running alone after all.