Walking With Willis

Willis reclining amongst mint and catnip.

Willis and I share certain attributes of the nocturnal disposition.

Willis comes by his preference for night time prowlings through the honored legacy of feline ancestors.

My own tendancy for late evening energy was handed down from my father, whose restless late night presence pervaded my childhood home.

Like my Dad, although I stay up late, I'm up early to greet each day--not with noisy bombast and cheerful bustle, but quietly easing out of bed soon after sunrise to pull back the curtains and see

what the morning offers.

Willis the Cat is one of the first sights to meet my eye on any given morning; he may be tucked up on the east-facing porch or crouched in the edge of the herb garden near the carport. He may be under the tree from which the bird feeder dangles, putting the Fear of Feline into avian foragers by his mere presence.

Willis and I setting out through the north field.

He waits, not so much in expectation of food, as in the hope of a companionable ramble around the dooryard and the fields beyond.

A bonding moment?

Looking northeast across the field billowing with the white froth of common fleabane

[erigeron philidelphicus]

We've stopped to notice a dew-sparkled cobweb stretched over dried stems.

 

We have prowled through acres blooming with common fleabane and field mustard.

The flowers of the common fleabane often show tints of pink or lavender when freshly opened.

The Daisy fleabane has a white bloom.

The patchy bark of this tree caught my attention.

Sycamore--maybe [?]

On recent morning walks we've discovered the daubed mud towers created in moist spots by crawdads.

Willis wanders a few yards from my path at times, blending with the colors of earth and grass.

It amuses him to suddenly reappear--boisterously pouncing.

We return to the house, our ears ringing with the mockingbirds' medley of song. My tall boots have kept my feet dry as we swish through tall grass and weeds. Willis has to dry his striped stockings before he curls up for a bit of a nap.

No napping for me--its time for a hot breakfast and the work of the day.