My cat Lassie says Hi!
People who know my books know that there will always be a lot of animals in my stories. Why? Because there are a lot of animals in my life, and I hope there always will be. Most of these creatures are wildlife, not pets, although of course I tell my cats they are my favorite mammals.
I can be surprisingly oblivious to inanimate objects in my environment. Sometimes as a child I’d open a Christmas gift that looked familiar, and then realize that my mother had made it right in front of me. But if there’s a ladybug on the wall in a room or a bird perched on the railing on the patio, I will probably zero in on it right away.
Frankly, I’m amazed at humans who can stroll by a tree filled with birds and not notice all the fascinating feathered creatures sheltering there. I’m surprised when people don’t marvel at the intricacies of spiderwebs or the intricate patterns on the wings of moths.
One time I encountered a magnificent buck standing in the cul-de-sac at the end of my street in full autumn antlered glory. Several neighbors were working in their yards a couple of houses away; they hadn’t even spotted this regal creature. Finally, a young boy on a bicycle stopped beside me, staring, and said, “Wow.” I was glad to know the next generation includes a few kindred spirits.
An alien being, AKA squid
I am famous among my wreck-diving friends for saying, “If it only sank a few weeks ago, it will just be a boat on the bottom.” That’s because scuba diving, for me, is all about the creatures, too. Communing with squid is just about as close to visiting an alien race on another planet as you can get–it’s magical.
An animal sighting can save an otherwise miserable experience. I was once on a horrible sailing trip through huge swells and pouring rain. I was out on the bow tying something down and cursing life in general and the people I was with in particular, and a porpoise surfaced beside the boat, rolled on its side, and regarded me for a long moment with an interested eye. That event made the trip worthwhile.
So I will continue to write about local wildlife in my Summer Westin eco-mystery series and signing gorillas in my Neema mystery series, and my romances will always contain animals, too, because I think our fellow creatures make both real and fictional worlds so much richer.
Orca!
I wish my cats could speak English or sign, because I’m not particularly adept at mastering cattish; they find me annoyingly slow to catch on to their conversations. But I’m happy they put up with me.
I’m glad the bushtits and chickadees and flickers and hummingbirds are enjoying my feeders today. I hope to see dolphins when I go kayaking tomorrow. An orca would be even better.
I wish you lots of wonderful animal experiences in 2014!
The eagles have returned to the cabin I’m care-taking on Lummi Shore Road. And then there are the ravens and the blue herons, the prosaic seagulls. And coming from over the water I hear goose- or swan-like trumpeting. The big, majestic birds are, of course, obvious. As are the pileated woodpeckers at work up high–generally heard before they’re seen. But it’s the little birds scurrying over the ground or in low bushes that are easier to ignore. I’m beginning to notice them more. The winter survivors. I wish I knew more about them. And soon the unexciting but still-lovable robins will return, building yet new nests as they leave behind those of years previous–of which three are decorating my fireplace chimney.
Over the years I’ve taught myself to speak Cattish–essentially mimicking the variously expressed warbles and purrs they emit. But they always seemed clueless about English. Which is one of the things I like about them.
Happy New Year!
Ah–a kindred spirit! Happy New Year, Paul!