If You Don’t Hear From Me – It’s The Moles
After stumbling through the process of making tea and doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper I felt that I was sufficiently conscious to drive to St. Arbucks.
“Oh, great nectar from the mountains of Abyssinia, you awaken my mind and soul to all the wonders and possibilities of God’s creation.”
— From the Gospel of St. Arbucks, Patron Saint of Jittery people.
This afternoon, however, is a different story.
As I stepped out of the back door I was made immediately aware that things were happening – big time.
First of all my ears were assaulted by the cacophony of a million Cicadas nestled high in the treetops. There is no other sound quite like the half buzz, half whine of the ugliest insect around. I don’t know if these are the 5-year, 7-year or the 17-year Cicadas that seem to like this part of the country, but they are noisy. When they are going full blast it can make earplugs a nice accessory.
After regaining my equilibrium from the aural assault I headed to the car, but I stopped when I saw what is in the picture displayed above.
We had a bit of rain overnight and I think it inflated the mushroom that has been growing by the tree near the car. I have put a book into the picture to give you some idea of the size. It first popped up about three years ago and has somehow survived some truly bitter winters. Now it looks poised to take over the whole yard.
I’ve seen squirrels nibble at it and birds too, but I’d be afraid to sample it for fear that it might bite back. I have no idea what kind of mushroom it is other than Honking Big.
After snapping the picture of the Mega-Shroom I walked around to the driver’s side of the car and noticed yet another sign of activity.
We have either a collection of moles living in/under the backyard or the city is putting in a new subway tunnel, which would surprise the heck out of me because Terre Haute (That’s French for “Mama don’t ‘low no subways around here.”) doesn’t have a subway system. It barely has bus lines. I don’t think they’d want to dig too deep around here anyway – you never know who you might bring up.
It must be moles – lots of them. It looks like they’ve all been drinking too. None of the little raised piles of dirt go in a straight line for more than six inches.
Then again, maybe the moles haven’t been drinking. They might be disoriented from sampling that giant Magic Mushroom over by the tree.
Or maybe it’s those darn Cicadas. They make enough noise to drive me crazy – just imagine what they could do to the nervous system of a mole.
Wait a minute…
Did I just compare myself to a mole?
If someone else said that to me I would ask them to step outside, but under the circumstances I would find myself out there alone. Then what?
Besides, it’s too hot and muggy today, so I’ll just stay inside and give myself a stern talking to.
I will continue to monitor the activity in the backyard and report on any significant changes.
If you don’t hear from me – it’s the moles.