Coldness Comes

An arctic cold front sent wind barreling out of the northwest spreading its abundance along the eastern United States.  Again. Beth knew the snow would be a cover for so much that was happening. But what?

An early walk to the hill above revealed rabbit and fox had made their way across the land. She hadn't seen the fox in nearly four years.  Wondered about them. Wondered if her gun toting cop neighbor with a silencer killed them.  She noticed more crows around the homestead the past year.  Perhaps they weren't confused by the global warming, but were awaiting carcass dinner.

Without her beloved dogs, she would never know.  They had a way of communicating whatever was in the community.  Racing from one end of the house to the other and looking up told the story.  Now, she would have to develop those senses on her own.

Her senses were developing.  Escalating.  Between the downloads and exhausting winter chill, her body was resting more.  Quieter. She loved being on the mountain.  It is safe.  Natural.  Home.

So much of her landscape was changing. Even nightfall was changing.  About an hour after sundown that the light in the sky seems to fade.  It is as though someone is dimming a light bulb.  A giant light bulb.  It happens in an instant. Then gone.

Beth's bed is near a sliding glass door which leads to a sunroom.  There is lots of light coming into the room.  The bed is a clear tower from which to observe.

Soothsayers and prophets tell us that we may have a few days of total darkness.  The academic mind can not fathom that because there has been no analysis leading to it.  No formulas, no history, no models.  But we know things happen that science can not explain. And I know enough to balance the academic with the realities of life.

It was Tuesday morning and Beth was driving down the eight degree grade. She couldn't  hit the brakes fast enough.  It was an arrow pointed down on the left side of my road.

"It has to be a surveyor marking," she thought.

Later that night, at the annual homeowner's association meeting, Beth asked her next door neighbor about it.

"Did you have your land surveyed?" she asked.

"No, we plan to do that next month," the neighbor said.

"Well, there is some kind of marker on my land.  Will you ask your husband to take a look at it?"

A half hour later a text arrived.

"He says it is an a marker of some sort. "

"That is what we thought," she said.

"You know, Fred filed the legal papers against Mike?"

"I didn't know," Beth said.

"Yes, he would have gotten them a week ago," the neighbor said.

We both thought the same thing.  Mike.

"But Mike was out of town, visiting Edisto Beach.  He took the whole family" I said.

Something doesn't fit.

It was just about a month ago when family members discovered a murder-suicide down the street. Neighbors wondered if someone else did it.  Maybe a burglary or something. The house went up for sale almost immediately.

But what about the marker.  It was placed on the same line as her neighbor's house.  While Beth felt safe enough, she worried about her neighbor.

Then Beth wrote her own letter about the barking dogs to the homeowner's association board.  She had had enough.
Stand tall or get out of the way.