Wildlife Fix

It wasn't much. A rustle in the bushes got me to turn on my path. Then a leap. A blur. A shot across the pale dusty gravel behind me. The stretched canter of a cat. A bobbed yellowish-white tale on a beefy set of tawny haunches, black feet. Then more rustling as it entered the chaparral on the downside of the ridge. The last time I saw a bobcat on Mt. Tam, it was about five years ago. Two of them, actually, sat stoically on the branch of an oak tree as I passed under. I didn't notice them until they were straight over my head. I walked on, keeping my quiet truce with Mother Nature. Today, I kept it -- not so quietly -- by calling Buddy (my Jack Russell Terror-ier) off his shit-disturbing chase. I wish I had more time to go out and watch for wildlife. As it is, I combine it with my one-hour daily hike to the top of the Corte Madera ridge. Many times, I'm hoofing it up, head bent over my stride, when I hear something I've come to learn is more than just a lizard or a field mouse darting into the dry grasses. Usually it is a hawk above or a deer ahead. Or, if I'm lucky, the more rare Peregrine Falcon, coyote, or wild turkey. Alarmed by my intrusive presence, they are usually heading in the other direction before I get a good long look. I haven't had a lot of sightings over the last six years on this particular hike or the previous six years on other Mt. Tam trails, but that's probably because I'm on trails. It's wildlife; it knows what the trails are for. It doesn't matter. What I've seen so far, it's enough for me. Heck, an unusual mound of scat is enough wildlife for me.