Fluttering

This evening I waited for the full moon to rise before going out to water the back yard. I watched it climb and grow brighter as the sky darkened, and as the trees began to cast shadows. The water splashed and the crickets chirped, and the feral cats watched me as I watched the moon. I wonder if cats notice the moon? I've never seen one look at it, but they must see it now and then. Perhaps it is too small and slow to capture their lasting attention.

They surely care more about the moths that flutter in its light. And how the moths danced tonight, torn between bright moon and the brighter porch light. Their wings shimmered with both as they fluttered about and made the cats leap. I saw none of them caught, though, and after sitting half an hour on the porch I returned indoors.

Outside, the cats are still watching those moths who are confused by the competing lights. Here, the light of the computer monitor washes over me, but the light of the television beckons. Portia is watching me. I'm sure she wants me to leave the desk and make a roomy lap for her on the couch. Once I've moved she will make her leap. Her lap time is a sure thing, but the feral cats won't necessarily get their moths. Still, I wonder which has the better deal?


( Sunday Verse )