A glassy green thread of water flows through shades of brown, bronze, and gold below the bridge. Figures of oak trees pierce endless sky over the prairie beside the railroad tracks. The days are too short, the temperatures no longer balmy. Winter lurks in the darkness that surrounds me as I drive home.
Will I see a deer like I did the other day near the hospital? Lee thought it was fake, but I knew better, with rutting season in full swing. This whitetail, at least an 8- point buck, was going to leap across the road at some point, just (fortunately) not as I was passing.
Tonight there were no deer visible to my eyes, but they were there – in the fields, hills, and prairies I passed shrouded in darkness that seemed to swallow everything in its path.
About 6 pm, I got home from an afternoon of making soap – measuring and melting fat, watching a volatile chemical (lye) make distilled water come to a rolling bowl in a plastic container, then watching my friend thoroughly mix everything together and bake this soupy jade-colored concoction. I got to help put it in molds although I didn’t stick around long enough for the soap to become solid. It was interesting, but a bit scary working with lye. It made me wonder what was in my scented gel soaps at home..
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