29 April, 2019
There was no sound. A soft breeze rustled the branches of the trees around the cabin, but that was it.
Bridget had heard that loneliness was a common complaint up in this wilderness, but she loved the outdoors. Always preferring nature to human companionship, she hadn't worried about loneliness gripping her. She’d rented this cabin for a month to get away from the noise of humanity.
Yukon Territory. Pretty. Remote. Wild nature. Beautiful in all its harsh isolation.
The guys who did that “Survivor” show should stage one up here. Then again, no. Leave it untouched. Let the bears and birds and beasts live their lives in peace. It was probably, on the whole, too dangerous to leave a bunch of strangers on their own with only their wits. Plus they’d have to pack too many clothes for the weather.
She sipped her coffee and rocked in her chair on the front porch. A week of solitude had passed, and maybe Bridget could begin to understand the concept of loneliness. More because it would be nice to share this moment with someone. And another human would be security when she went out on daily hikes. Still. Time spent in the company of oneself was always time well-spent. She was sure she had read that somewhere. Some famous person said it.
There were supposed to Polar Bears, but she hadn’t seen any yet. That was disappointing. Was she in the wrong season? Was it the climate change that kept them away? Hopefully they’d show up before the month was out.
Her coffee finished, Bridget went back inside, disappointed. She had such hopes every time she sat out on the porch of this cabin. The cabin was supposed to be well-positioned for observation of wildlife coming to the lake, but she couldn’t seem to time it right. Maybe she smelled wrong, or made weird noises, and the animals stayed away specifically because she was outside. Inside the kitchen, she washed out her coffee mug and watched the birds at the bird-feeder outside the kitchen window.
Birds at the bird-feeder, squirrels and gophers and other small ground animals. Not the Polar Bear viewing she’d bragged about to friends back home.
Gradually, as she watched out the window, she noticed movement further way, near the trees. What was it?
Bridget didn’t move, barely breathed, even though she was dying to run and grab her binoculars.
A large shadow ambled out from the trees, striding toward the edge of the lake. A moose! Bridget grinned so broadly she was afraid a laugh was going to burst out. Although she was behind glass, she didn’t dare make a noise that might be heard by an animal’s alert ears.
The birds fluttered away from the feeder, but she wasn’t watching them anymore. It was so beautiful! So big and – well, it wasn’t elegant, Bridget thought. But the slow way it moved, so self-assured as if it owned this property and all other animals should bow to it. Yes. There was something majestic in the bearing of the big, burly, lopsided looking beast.
Bridget sighed, her vision blurred by sudden tears pooling in her eyes. This was her moment. She had three more weeks to get pictures or zoom in with binoculars. It was a private moment that would live nowhere but her memory. And there was nothing lonely about that at all.
Thank you for visiting my #AtoZChallenge! My theme is "Audience Participation" (read about it, here) and now it is your turn. Each day will be a new story based on suggestions from your comments. Suggest anything: a word, scenario, character, location... I will be keeping a list of suggestions, so if yours isn't used tomorrow, it may show up later. (Even after AtoZ.)
Today's post was inspired by the prompt "moose", suggested by J Lenni Dorner (of Operation Awesome), given in comments on my "K" post (here)