robby

I was riding my bike along the Bay trail on Thursday afternoon, and had just entered a place where the path narrows, as it goes through a long stand of wild licorice plants. In the summer, the licorice is flowering and the pungent blossoms are swarming with bees. The flowers brush you on both sides, and you ride through fast, in case the bees take offense.

Autumn is here, the plants are now dry and the flowers are stiff, and the bees have gone, but I still carefully watch the path ahead, as I ride through.

Ten feet ahead, a little possum is running along the path, with curious little, staggering steps, oblivious to me. I'm riding fast and silently, and when I am five feet behind, this little possum finally senses me, and looks over it's left shoulder--- right into my eyes.

From it's shiny black eyes, I can feel abject terror, and I experience a rare instant of communication with it. It's strange to suddenly exchange something like that with a wild animal.