Wendy and I had a nice date today. We got out of the house, saw the town... The town in this case being Wal-Mart and McDonald's (Hell, thy name is PlayPlace), but still. We had a good time. Full of chicken nuggets and hugs around the neck and "I love you so much, Mommy"s.
Then, at home, on our way up the two steps to our front door, Wendy noticed the fuzzy caterpillar crawling on our mutant squash. I forgot to get a picture of the mutants, I'll have to do that later. We left a few of those weird decorative squash to the left of our steps last year, and a huge vine grew up there this year, and spawned strange lumpy yellow gourds. That's one thing that I love about this place. Nature and all of the beautiful* randomness that we are privy to, just by living out here somewhat surrounded by the PA wilds...
A few years ago, Carl and I rescued a baby deer from a fox. Baby deer make a crying sound not unlike the that of a small child, did you know that? I heard the noise, and Carl jumped the fence. He chased the fox away and was holding the baby and trying to assess the damage, when he was almost run down by the mother deer as she came flying across the field behind our house. I yelled something really intelligent like, "Hey! Look! Look! Hey!" as she barreled down on the place where he was crouched against the other side of the fence. He let the baby go, and the pair ran back to the treeline, leaving us both stunned and kind of glad we weren't about to live through a scene from The Yearling, or something.
This encounter was not that dramatic. Just a bug on our step. But still. You couldn't tell that it wasn't just as thrilling, for all the time we spent examining the bug and naming the bug and talking about the bug and moving the bug to a safe, happy location. Good times. Nature rocks.*
*spiders don't count