The Delta

This past weekend was a time of animal intrusion.

The dogs were all quite obnoxious. No matter how I tried to command them or cajole them, they were on the rampage. By Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Orr and I were looking at each other with weariness in our faces, and our whispered conversations contained words like giveaway, shelter, dogcather, euthanasia, pistols, and shovel/mattock. They calmed down at some point, but we were not perky dog owners by Sunday night.

Sunday afternoon, I dressed for the rain and went for a walk. I made my way up into the woods and finally climbed over the fence separating my neighbor’s pasture from our property. A vast expanse of corn stubble was spread before me, and I was looking forward to walking and thinking, two things I sorely needed to do. I was only a few hundred yards into my stroll across that particular pasture when I heard a snort from my starboard side. Looked over and there was a group of cows watching me. I stopped to watch them right back, and that’s when they broke into a trot, headed straight for me.

I was mindful that the cows see a human in the fields as a dinner bell, and I knew that I was not going to be able to outrun them if I proceeded farther, so I turned and hobbled as quickly as I could back to my own property. I turned and snapped another pic just before I reached my fence.

Once I was on the other side, I looked back and saw a portrait of Team Bovine watching me, stamping and snorting and inquiring about the goodies that I was supposed to be carrying with me. I stared them down. For about two seconds. Then I made my way back to the house. The House of Unruly Canines.

***

I mentioned the need to walk and think. I’ve been reading deeply since a back-and-forth with a trusted friend over the weekend, and I am chewing over some explosive things. Things that could perhaps turn me onto a new path, a path with the potential to cause alarm and concern for those who love me. But I have many matters to consider. The pattern of my life is that focused periods of deep contemplation tend to be accompanied by a great shaking of earth. Sometimes, they are merely accompanied by a different facet of thinking, a change in my gaze at the living world around me.

In the medical world, the shorthand indication of a change is the capital Greek letter “D,” or delta, symbolized by the letter at the top of this post. If a doctor or nurse writes, “Change Lisinopril 5 mg po qd to HCTZ 25 mg po tod,” the word “change” is indicated with the Greek letter delta.

I am standing on one side of the fence, preparing to climb over. The fence has little barbs all along the wire. And they look like sharp little deltas.

~ S.K Orr