If I Am Killed By a Mountain Lion
Frost on the lifeless grass created a
crunching sound under my feet as I walked the narrow wooded trail. Day four of
a silent retreat was creating a restless need to leave the tiny cabin for fresh
air. As I listened to the crackling grass under my feet, and inhaled clean
crisp air deep into my lungs, a warm sense of gratitude flowed through me. The
past four days had been perfect. The cabins floor to ceiling picture window,
the busy bird feeder, the comfortable bed, the full moon.... and the naps! The naps were dream filled journeys of pure
bliss. Even the rocking chair by the warm fireplace was a perfect fit, and most
of my waking moments had been spent daydreaming by the fire. I was aligned and
connected within the perfect silence of God.
The
narrow, well-worn trail was perfect too. There were just enough hills to
provide aerobic breathing and beautiful enough to entice me deeper into the
woods. There is no one around for miles and the air so crisp and silent. The
sensory deprivation of four days in silence makes me notice things I would not
otherwise notice; The warmth of the sun lighting up my breath, the faint wheezing
of my middle aged lungs, the creaking of tree tops, and the rustling of forest
leaves as a nervous chipmunk makes his way to safety. I am far removed from my day-to-day
existence and far away from my cabin, but in this state of spiritual perfection
and alignment, I don't care about either.
As
the sun warms the winding trail, the frozen dirt turns to thick mud, and I look
down at my mud-covered boots. My eyes then looked ahead at the trial,
attempting to gage the depth of the mud path before me. Then I see it: the
large, deep impression of animal tracks. Without further investigation, a shock
runs up my spine. Suddenly, I am flushed with adrenaline as my mind flashed to
the recent news picture of a Michigan mountain lion dragging a dead deer by the
throat into the woods. My once silent mind starts careening like a roller
coaster with out brakes. "I live in Michigan. How far South are they?
They could live here. It’s the perfect place. Who would know? If I were a
mountain lion, I would definitely live here. I would definitely.....live
here."
I rationalize the
life a Michigan Mountain lion. "They live in the woods, far away from
people."
Comparison comes immediately. "At
this very moment, I too, am in the woods and far away from people." I stop and look at my surroundings as if I am
seeing it for the first time.
"I think they live up in the
trees, so they can pounce upon unsuspecting prey." I scan the bare treetops, trying to change the
course of my impending doom. What exactly, would I do if I am attacked by a
mountain lion? I cannot scream for help, no one would hear. I cannot outrun it,
I am wheezing now. There would be nothing left to do except kill it with my
bare hands. But how? All I had in my pockets was an iPhone and a stick of Juicy
Fruit.
"Wait.... they
are nocturnal! Maybe they are sleeping right now. They won’t wake up just
because there is helpless human food on the trail."
"Not so fast.
Don't you get up in the middle of the night just because you know there is food
in the refrigerator? "
"But this place
has plenty of food. Maybe they aren't hungry."
"Maybe they are
tired of eating squirrel."
And that’s when I see it. Fresh scat. I
stop to take a closer look.
"Could a
mountain lion have done this? It looks fresh."
"Okay, what are
you going to do if you are attacked by a mountain lion?"
"I will jab one
hand into his mouth while simultaneously poking his eyeballs. I will obviously
be screaming, so that will scare it."
I envision the evening news broadcast
of a poor, unsuspecting woman being dragged off and eaten by a mountain lion in
Lower Michigan except, It’s not me.
I am relieved I have a plan!
The trail takes me deeper into the
woods and further away from the cabin. I am communing with God and deep into
random thoughts when I come upon a small but deep valley with a pond at the
bottom. I stop to take in the view when my eyes land upon a small cabin, just
big enough for a wood stove, single bed, toilet and the wall facing the pond is
glass. I recognize it as the cabin named Thoreau from the website. I want to take a
closer look.
"What if some
crazy guy is in there?"
"But I wanna see
it!
"Hell no! What
if that lunatic keeps you captive and makes you do things you wont even do with
your husband. They will find you years later chained to a bed with your hair
all mattted and smelling like urine."
"Come on! Have
some courage!"
"Courage don’t
mean stupid."
I continue to argue with myself back
and forth, interrupted by a low, evil, angry growl coming from behind my left
shoulder. I instantly freeze as blood rushes to my head and my heart starts
pounding.
I turn slowly, rehearsing the mountain
lion kill drill in my head. I hear it again.
Grrrrrrrrrr.......ooooowwwwllllllll. I
scan the trees.
"Oh my God its a mountain
lion!"
"No Einstein.
Its Senna tea. Your stomach is rolling. What part of drinking two cups of colon
cleanse and then going on a long walk in the woods was a smart idea?"
Maybe I can make it
back to the cabin. Nope. I am going to lose it right here in the woods. I have
no toilet paper.
"So...apparently
you are unprepared."
"Yes. I am
unprepared to shit in the woods. But, if I am attacked by a mountain lion, I
will know exactly what to do."
