One Right Smart Mole

Moles don't laugh with you
Moles don't laugh with you

Don’t you just love standing out on your porch in the late afternoon of a crisp Fall day, drawing deep full breaths of air still damp and pure from a cleansing shower, and listening to the music of nature all around you? If you stand still long enough the birds and the squirrels will pay you no mind and come close enough that you can almost reach out and touch them. If you relax your breathing and your mind, and focus on the moment the stresses of the day and the troubles of the world will drift away like clouds after the rain. That’s what I was doing a little while ago when I saw him.

It was just a barely perceptible movement caught out of the corner of my eye. It didn’t even register at first, but awareness slowly crept in and I realized what I was seeing. The marauding mole that’s been plowing up my yard was on the move.

I’ve tried traps; I’ve tried poisons; I’ve even tried one of those mole-vibrator-repeller things; nothing worked. So, when I saw that dirt move, and for the first time knew for sure where he was, I knew what I had to do. I went inside and hollered, “Honey, where’s my shotgun?”

“You don’t have a shotgun,” she said.

“Okay fine, where’s your shotgun?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I need it.”

“Why?”

“I just saw that mole that’s been tearing up the yard and if I hurry I can get him.”

“With a shotgun?”

“Unless you think your pistol would work better. Where is it?”

“Fine, the shotgun is in the closet. Please be careful.”

“Sure, sure.” Two minutes later I was back on the porch, shotgun in hand and pockets bulging with shells. I crept down the stairs and made my way to where I’d seen the dirt move. I waited. Minutes passed and then I saw movement several feet away. I started to close in, but the little bastard had strung a trip wire across the yard. I went down, face first in the mud; the shotgun went off, mortally wounding a magnolia tree, and I could swear I heard the mole giggle.

A minute later my pockets were empty and the yard was full of craters, but still no sign of the mole. I think he somehow stole my box of shells too because when I went in to reload they were gone. Mysteriously, my wife was missing too. I sure hope she’s okay.

If you have any good ideas for getting rid of a right smart mole, please let me know.

Regards,

Tim Couch

A Moment of Peace

Peaceful night
Peaceful night

Greetings,

I received a wonderful gift tonight and I would like to share it with you. I stepped outside a while ago just to ponder as I sometimes do. The air was crisp and clean; the night, calm and peaceful. I listened to the nighttime critters chirping in the trees; in the distance the river chattered cheerfully as it flowed upon its way.

I stood overlooking the hollow and felt the warm glow that shone from the windows of my neighbors’ homes. The silvery sphere of the moon in full bloom floated behind gauzy clouds in the eastern sky, and tiny points of starlight peered through the darkness to shine upon me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaned back my head, closed my eyes, breathed deep, and set my mind adrift on the night. There was a moment of hesitation, like a puppy who suddenly realizes he has slipped his leash, and then my mind ran free.

I let it go. I didn’t try to call it back and for a moment, perhaps only an instant, all the stresses of the past week faded away and all the worries for the future disappeared. And, during that moment I felt peace.

True peace, like true joy, is a fleeting thing. It can not be captured, or conjured, or contrived. It often happens so quickly that we can only appreciate it as a memory, and when it’s gone its absence is indescribable.

This moment, this instant in time, was my gift from the Universe. Perhaps I earned it; perhaps I needed it; perhaps I merely accepted it. Whatever the reason I received this precious gift I wish for you the same.

Life is full of worry and doubt. We all carry bushel baskets full of need-to’s and have-to’s and ought-to’s, but sometimes what we really need is to stop, take a deep breath, and allow ourselves a moment of peace.

Cordially yours,

Tim Couch