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Release the Hounds!
May. 8th, 2004 12:59 amEarlier this evening the wife dragged me off the couch and up to the Blue Ridge Mountains, fleeing the city lights in favor of darker skies. We drove to Big Spy Mountain where, after a brief hike up a hill in the darkness, there was a grassy clearing with a 360 degree view around the mountain. A lone stone bench is up there, begging for a sacrificial victim. The wife sat there and sought for a faint fuzzy smudge of light in the sky, an alleged comet.
Crickets chirped. A few wacky nocturnal birds twittered. The nearby trees rustled softy in the breeze. Otherwise, all was quiet on the mountain. I figured this would have been an ideal, peaceful moment to practice some Tai Chi. I get settled. Relaxed. I'm about to execute the first move when a lone howl resounds from the distance. The wife and I share an amused glance at each other. Before one of us can say, "That was pretty cool," a cacophony of yelps, barks, and howls sing out through the night accompanied by a solo, blood-curdling shriek. The racket of the dog pack echoes around the mountain top. Coming closer.
We figure the time was nigh to gather up our things and make a quick exit. The pack probably wouldn't have come bounding and slobbering up the hill at us. They could even have been on another mountain entirely--sound travels far in the still, quiet night. However, just to be safe, we hid in the car and eventually went for a long drive down the parkway. Being torn apart by wild dogs was pretty low on our list of priorities. But, now that I'm back on my couch, I can say, "That was pretty cool."
Crickets chirped. A few wacky nocturnal birds twittered. The nearby trees rustled softy in the breeze. Otherwise, all was quiet on the mountain. I figured this would have been an ideal, peaceful moment to practice some Tai Chi. I get settled. Relaxed. I'm about to execute the first move when a lone howl resounds from the distance. The wife and I share an amused glance at each other. Before one of us can say, "That was pretty cool," a cacophony of yelps, barks, and howls sing out through the night accompanied by a solo, blood-curdling shriek. The racket of the dog pack echoes around the mountain top. Coming closer.
We figure the time was nigh to gather up our things and make a quick exit. The pack probably wouldn't have come bounding and slobbering up the hill at us. They could even have been on another mountain entirely--sound travels far in the still, quiet night. However, just to be safe, we hid in the car and eventually went for a long drive down the parkway. Being torn apart by wild dogs was pretty low on our list of priorities. But, now that I'm back on my couch, I can say, "That was pretty cool."
