A visitor

This morning, E. and I were getting ready to walk out to the grocery store for our weekly round of shopping. I had my boots on and was ready to go, then decided that the weather looked a bit too threatening and I wanted my hat—which I then remembered was upstairs in my bag. So I took off my boots and tromped upstairs for my hat, came back down, and put my boots on again. Then I realized that I needed my backpack, which was—wait for it—upstairs. Boots off, up the stairs, grumbling all the way. And then I happened to look out the back window and see:

An uninvited guest

An uninvited guest

Our visitor was browsing around in the back yard, brazen as could be. E. and I watched for a few minutes, thinking that we really ought to discourage it from sticking around, but enjoying the sight nonetheless. Then, as it started to move towards the fruit trees, we opened the windows, shouting and waving our arms. It bounded back a few leaps to the back of the yard, but still didn’t make for the woods until E. stepped out on the back deck and waved her boots in the air.

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