02: Letters from the Slow Lane

surrendering my suburban sensibilities

Dear friends,

Last week was a carnival of animals trespassing through my abode and I felt witchier than ever. Sculpted by suburban sensibilities, the desire for a home that is spotless and critter free runs deep. But my reality is that I live in a remote rural area where I am the intruder. This is the home of lizards, coyotes, rabbits, bighorn sheep, tarantulas, pack rats, quail and more. I am only one of a large community of creatures that scuttle across this land.

It all began when a toad hopped out from behind my bed. It was so covered in lint balls that at first, I could not tell what it was. I called down my future-zoologist-daughter and she excavated the reptile from the dust bunnies, uncovering an adorable New Mexico spadefoot toad.

Next came the series of four baby mice. I have a preternatural disgust for mice, which is probably good since they carry disease. Yet no matter how sealed we believe our house to be, they always find another way in. In this case, a nest of pinkies was gestating on their own under the compost toilet after we trapped and killed their mother and left town for a couple of weeks. They appeared one by one squeaking loudly for attention. I admit they were adorable, but we set the snake-snacks free into the mesa and wished them the best of luck.

Soon after, a juniper titmouse flew in through the front door and made a mess of things as it attempted to escape through every window, leaving a trail of disturbed feathers in its wake before I removed the screen on one and it lifted back to sky.

These are moments of surrender. There is no such thing as a world in which I can shelter myself from existence inside a shiny little box and hope the outdoors never makes its way in. I am grateful for the biodiversity that surrounds me, the abundance of summer’s zenith and the little joy of animals who make our acquaintance.

Until next time, take it easy.

Johanna