Bobcats

This morning we were eating our breakfast, when I looked out into the eyes of a bobcat. "Bobcat!" I exclaimed. This was the third time we've seen a bobcat in our yard, but never so close.


He or she casually strolled across the patio, looked up at me, then glided away. Bobcats move gracefully, like Jeeves in the Bertie Wooster stories, I imagine. They walk so softly, but with fluid strength. Think "house cat" then turn up the "powerful" dial about 1000 percent.


Now I understand why the rabbit was streaking across our yard yesterday. Normally the rabbits hippity hop across the yard, pausing for a nibble or to twitch their ears at the sounds of the arroyo. Not yesterday. That rabbit was movin'! My reaction was a knowledgeable "Huh?" Now I'll start looking for bobcats.

The bobcat spent some time around a big bush in the corner of the yard. I realize that, when I stroll out into the yard with my morning tea, I need to look around a bit more closely. There might be a bobcat behind that big bush. I'm sure it would gracefully leap the wall and take off, but I plan on being like most animals in the desert--aware and ready to move fast.


It is a true gift to see such a magnificent animal in the stillness of the morning as it goes about its business.