Dusk...Skunks...Raccoons

We had a couple of minor adventures on our run tonight. We were late getting out, it was cold and rainy and being inside was more pleasant, but instead of letting the day get away from us we decided to go do what needed doing. We left about 9 p.m. and the clouds had cleared enough to leave us with an amazing pink-clouded sunset with a view all the way out to Antelope Island. 

We got going, chatted, and ran, and walked, and saw a black fluffy bottle brush tail waggling back and forth sticking up out of a hole in the ground. I knew it had to be a little skunk, but was surprised. I pointed it out to an unimpressed Jerel and we gave it a wide berth. Just up ahead a few more paces I saw another fluffy black tail. I thought "REALLY???" and sure enough it was a second skunk. I told Jer it looked like we might be running more than we had anticipated. No worries though, they were so busy digging for grubs that they didn’t pay us any mind, which was fine for the moment, but what about on the way back? The light would be dim at best, the sun had already set. Well, whatever, we’d work it out as needed.

Night truly began to fall and we were going on twilight and moonbeams. Stars began to peek out and in the distance I heard a cow lowing. I loved being outside with the smell of wet hay and grass, cows and water, desert and wildflowers. My mind wandered…to all of the Criminal Minds episodes where people are murdered in the forest or in a wooded park. I regained control of my mind, mostly, and pondered on the delights of nature and how I wished I didn’t know as much as I do about human predators. 

It was dark enough that I was glad that Jerel had a flashlight. I sang out: “The sun has gone down and the moon has come up and long ago somebody left with the cup…He’s going the distance. He’s going for speed. She’s all alone, all alone, in her time of need.” We laughed. We were almost back to the cemetery where the car was…in the dark. Seriously.

Suddenly to my left I heard angry chittering…chittering with teeth, I was instantly on alert. I said “What is that??” and thought possibly raccoons. Jerel said “Sounds like raccoons.” Great. I picked up the pace, I knew that could charge and I didn’t need a lousy little ankle biter chasing me in the dark. The angry, toothy chittering continued, and though I had picked up the pace, it sounded like it was keeping pace. This did not make me happy. I started thinking about rabid zombie raccoons. Finally the noise died back. Jerel mentioned it sounded like they had been keeping pace…so I wasn’t just imagining things.

We got back to the car…unscathed…unsprayed…and thoroughly happy to have gotten another day of running intervals under our belts. Jerel’s parting statement “We need to come out just a little bit earlier…before all the angry mammals come out.” Agreed Jer. Agreed.