Our house sits on the west edge of town. We are across the road from the New Addition, and also the Prairie Garden. (Technically the Wilson Nature Preserve, I think.) Some probably call it the Mess of Weeds, or something else derogatory.
When Mark and I brush our teeth, we usually stand looking out a window that faces north. We look northeast and see the Prairie, as well as several of the houses. (Including, ironically, my sister-in-law’s house. How convenient that we can spy on her, right?)
Just kidding. It’s not spying. We’re just keeping track of them, making sure they are safe.
No, we don’t really pay attention to what’s going on. Mostly because there’s nothing going.
OK, maybe we pay a little bit of attention. How else would we have known that they had another new vehicle?
Do you see it? That black lump?
OK, so we know it’s not really a buffalo, but neither of us can figure out for sure what the darned thing really is. Neither of us can remember to ask anyone who might know (like…my sister-in-law…that’s her garage peeking out on the far left of the top picture). Or, heaven forbid, neither of us has managed to actually walk over there and LOOK at the lump up close. We have a guess, but I think the time has come that I’m going to actually figure it out.
I’d hate for it to really be a buffalo, hiding in the prairie, sad that no one has walked out to visit him and see why he’s roaming through this particular prairie.