Wetumpka, AL -

The Spanish moss was the first thing I noticed as we pulled into our lot in Fort Jackson Toulouse Park. It is all over on the huge ancient pin oak trees and makes everything look relaxed and serene. I have been fond of the stuff since a trip many years ago to see family in Louisiana where it’s absolutely everywhere. There’s just something beautiful and lazy about it that immediately makes me begin to feel at ease when I’m in among it.

The cats showed up just after we had everything hooked up. One male, one female and two adolescents, a female and one of indeterminate gender. The adult male remained quite aloof, but the adult female we called Momcat clearly enjoyed our company even though she never came close enough to be stroked. She and the youngsters would sit quietly on our porch less than five feet from us, paws tucked in underneath in classic cat-loaf fashion. We fed them canned chicken two nights in a row and that made us their Official Favorite People, probably for the duration of our stay.

We grew used to their rustling about outside in the leaves in short order. So used to it, in fact, that we could tell immediately when that rustling changed in pitch and intensity and led us outside to discover a large armadillo determinedly rooting about in the soft earth behind the back bumper. They are bizarre looking creatures, almost like a pig and pill-bug all spliced together. They don’t see well, but it was able to deem us too close at one point and took off across the park at top speed, which was comparable to that of an elderly and slightly crippled Labrador. At one point it stopped and sat up to squint at me, giving me a good close look at its front digging claws while twitching its leaflike ears, then it was off again in the gathering dark. The sun had been on the way down when we started the chase and now it was down behind the hills.

The coyotes began their litany about that time. They are very distinct in their vocalizations, much different than dogs which tend to bay or howl. The coyotes sounded more like canine fireworks, with short bursts of sound and wildly varying pitch. We listened until they were done and then went back inside.

In our first few days here we’ve taken care of domestic chores: laundry, filling the larder, cleaning the counters, etc. I’ve also been spending a great deal of time growing proficient in the use of the UNIX interface on my MacBook Pro. This is a skill set necessary for the work I’m doing with Biotic Design, a small web design and consulting start up I’m very pleased and excited to be a part of. It is challenging going back to a text-based interface when I’ve become so used to a graphic one, but it also takes me back to the days when my father brought home our first computer and insisted I sit down and begin learning how to use it. He and my mother even enrolled me in a summer course in BASIC that year (oh how I date myself … ). I took to it immediately at the time but as my teenage years approached I found other things of interest and the computer skills took a back seat to many other new and exciting things.

Now, I’m back in front of the Terminal, typing commands in what is essentially a foreign language, remembering what does what more clearly with each stroke of the keys. Alex reminds me it is well after 5pm and to log my hours and step away from the machine. It is hard to do. I find I am just as intrigued and fascinated by it all as I once was, when my father sat me down in a chair large enough that my feet dangled above the floor, in front of the monstrous IBM machine that would be my introduction to a world etched in microchips.

Alex is right, however. It is time to put it away for now. I believe there’s even Mexican hot chocolate on the stove to help convince me. I’d share if you were here.

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