Skip to main content

Groundhog Sunset

     Hey everyone. Once upon a time I worked at a chemical plant that was about a mile from a big river.There was a big tank of acid on the site and groundhogs had burrowed under the tank, which is not uncommon. The river was East of the tank and the sun set, of course, to the West. I worked evening shift and usually found a way to stroll around outside, just a bit, at sunset. Most evenings in the summer, the groundhog would come out to enjoy the sunset. The oddity was, he always faced the river, which was out of sight, rather than the sunset. I've always been a keen student of nature and animals and the weird behavior of this groundhog has bothered me for years. I mean, he would sit and watch out across the fields in the direction of the river. He cared nothing for the beautiful sunsets to the West. He wouldn't move for several minutes at a time, sitting statue-like on his hindquarters with his forefeet in the air.
     Did I detect a wistfulness in his stare? Was there an expression of sadness? I don't know. At the last rays of the setting sun he would go beneath the tank once again.
     I have formulated a few theories concerning the actions of this furry friend. Why he looked toward the river and so forth.
1. He was thinking about a really nice-looking groundhog chick he used to date, down by the river.
2. He was thinking about his childhood home, down in the river bank, where his mother would read him stories about Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer.
3. He can smell the river, has heard stories about it, but can't summon the courage to actually travel that far from home. Like many of us.
4. He was dreaming about the days his forefathers talked about, when the air and water were clean.
5. He misses Bill Murray.
6. He is irritated and bitter that he didn't make enough money to retire after that gig in Pennsylvania.
7. He was bullied by a turkey when he was younger. He despises himself for being forced away from his home at the river. He dreams of beating the stuffing out of that turkey some day. Yuk, yuk.
8. The sun bothers his eyes.
9. He is reflecting on how he hates the name 'groundhog' but figures that any name is better than woodchuck.
10. He is, after many years, coming to grips with the fact that he:
    a. Is not an eagle.
    b. Must wear a fur coat wherever he goes.
    c. Smells bad and the nearest bath is a mile away.
From the author's green retreat, I'm CE Wills.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egg Art

     Hey, everyone. One of the odd customs in America is the Easter Egg Hunt. Here at the Green Retreat, we do a hunt every Spring. I just ran across some of the pictures from this years hunt and it is obvious that an artist had sneaked into our midst. The orange egg is a rendering of one of the Angry Birds of gaming lore. If I were a bird and had to pass an egg that size, I would be angry too. Ha, ha.      We typically will dye about 10 dozen eggs and people get quite creative with their quotes and colors, as you can see. Many of the eggs are a bit risque for these pages. After having a few laughs, we hide the eggs. All of them are never found, which is cool. It is amusing to see old men (me) and all ages of folks, walking around with a basket on their arm. Some of the hiding spots are dastardly. Like eggs hidden in the guttering downspouts and ten foot up a tree. The kids are perhaps the most devious at hiding the colorful orbs, goi...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cake Is Better Than Swords

Hey, everyone. On Thanksgiving, we had a get-together here at The Author's Green Retreat. One lady brought a cake which I wanted to show you. It had the look of a Roman Coliseum about it. Inside it was just as decadent...and fun, as ancient Rome. When I cut it open, homemade marshmallow cream began to ooze out in several spots, running over the chocolate cake and peanut butter icing. It is best served warm so the cream is fluid. Very tasty. The same lady, and her children, are people who have played a lot of Skyrim. They gave me some pointers on the game because I am having problems with it. They taught me how to fast travel, and a ton of other things, but the main thing was the armor and clothing problem. This is a little embarrassing, but let me explain. Okay. For several weeks when I played, I would enter towns and everyone I met would comment on my nakedness. I would select a tunic and shoes, whatever, go back around people and they would say something about it. I guess I w...
Post a Comment
Read more