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Ralph van Drielen

A new publication from Primitive Home Press

Enid Petherick's
Open Studio!

On NOw~!

Enid Petherick      
New Works

Enid
Petherick's
MAG portolio

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Money is a handy thing to have but it's very expensive.
It costs time.

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When we first moved here we had no TV, no radio, novideo, and no connection to the outside world. So, evenings we watched television by sitting in our livingroom looking out the glass window that makes up most of our front door.

Rarely did we not see something interesting, entertaining, or fascinating: a flock of birds; squirrels charging up trees or chasing each other; deer crossing the flats below; hummingbirds hovering at our window; amarten standing on its hind legs to look in at us; the top of the furry back of a Black Bear suddenly crossing along the bottom of the window....

A radio now runs off solar panels, but we still have no TV. We still continue happily to watch television but now we watch mainly from our decks.

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The greatest destroyer of time is routine.

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The children raced joyously to their mother after spending the day hiding motionless in the bushes. Now they stretched their legs, jumping around exuberantly.The mother ignored us obviously even though we knew she was very much cognizant of us sitting up on our front deck watching the reunion. The bushes where the two fawns had hidden for the day were the other side ofthe creek below the house and now the family was in the open area just across the creek from us and in plain sight.

The mother began walking north slowly, head high, giving every indication she was aware of our pleasure at seeing her children. We suspect she expected her children to follow. Instead, one of them (male by any chance?) took off straight south running flat-out full speed towards the south pond. The other immediately followed. They rapidly distanced themselves and were turning east at the pond when the mother realized her children weren't behind her.

Stopping, she looked back over her shoulder, consternation crossing her features, and turned to face where her suddenly truant children had disappeared.

Now they were turning at the pond and heading toward the road. She took two steps towards them, saw they were paralleling the road, turned 90° and took off full speed running east up an open dry overflow river channel that would intersect their path.

The children raced north beside the road.
The mother charged east intent on catching them.
We watched the children cross the dry channel, still running full speed and disappear into the forest. We saw the mother flat out chasing, turn from the channel and disappear into the forest right behind them. We thought it was over and cursed our luck.
But a few minutes later they came walking up our old lane, more like marching really, with the mother in front, head high, and her two subdued children following along right behind her, nose to tail. They crossed our little bridge, passed the well house, and started up the incline to the house. When they were within twenty metres of the house, the click of our daughter's camera discombobulated the mother and she led her children quickly up over the bank to the side of the lane. She walked into the forest with her children still following obediently along behind.

This mother proved she was fully in charge. But--OH!--to know what happened when she finally caught them in the forest!

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Somewhere between the rigid objectivity of scientists and the dead object of hunters is a subjective territory where wild animals seem to live just as contentedly as we do. It is this subjectivity I have lived with and wish to explore.

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