Friday, August 20, 2010

Morning

A fluttering sound...and a spray of tiny, icy daggers prick at my nose and around my eyes. Lids twitching from the unexpected alighting the instinct...remain closed. Slowly, my breath is drawn - even more slowly than I have drawn while asleep moments ago though accosted by a rapturous symphony of odors that threatens to overwhelm my instinctive intent with the promise of novel ecstasy. The distinctive scent of warm flesh detected among the dizzying spectrum, I gradually begin to allow the crisp dawn to slice across my vision and I begin to take in the world around me. A shadow among lazily wavering undergrowth...just within the upper limits of my sight. I can't resist. In an instant I give a quick exhalation through and lick of the nose cleansing it for a pure sampling of the scent, a snap of the neck upward, and indulge in a deep inhalation. The shadow darts through ferns that beckon me to follow. Shaken dew glinting in the broken rays that peirce the wooded canopy provide a shimmering trail to my quarry. I wait. I don't need these. I have its scent...from the way its diet has influenced its musk and the urine on its haunches to the spore and pollen on its coat from its foraging to the nearly dried blood in a slight wound on its snout. Tiny. Too small for a meal...but swift and just right for a challenge. The world about returns to slow green undulations coerced only by the fickle breeze. Now the chase begins!