Cats in the Night

This peaceful sunset last night promised a deeply peaceful day today; it was so warm that we walked out to the dune-top deck to watch the last of the sunset, still glowing along the horizon.

This morning we awoke to more clear skies, even warmer temperatures - up as high as 67 by mid-afternoon - and almost no wind.  I ran four miles, down past the picnic area, and then back onto the beach at low tide for my final mile.  The ocean was so calm it lapped at the sand like a pond.  Martha had not yet left for her workout at Anytime Fitness so we drove there together and I grocery-shopped while she worked with her personal trainer.

This afternoon we applied a good coating of sun-block and went out onto the beach all afternoon, and it was glorious.  Sunbathing in February is extraordinarily satisfying!  When we came back to the condo, we saw this African Lion running smoothly across the lawn.

It was actually the local tiger cat; felines look so much like their larger ancestral forebears!  This little fellow has been very busy these days; every time I see him he is on the move, and more often than not his complicated maneuvers are efforts to outflank either a large gray cat with a bushy tail or a black and white cat.  Apparently there has been some upheaval in the feline neighborhood, possibly connected with the closing of the Resort Grill for two weeks; the plates of cat food I used to see on my way to the dumpster, out the back door, are no longer there.  But not to worry:  these felines are definitely well-fed; the gray one seems to drag his belly on the grass as he creeps along the edge of the yaupon holly.

Not only do we see them stalking one another every day - sometimes they will even flit furtively and swiftly through the lobby and the parking area - but we have also heard their eerie wailing cries of warfare in the wee hours of the morning; last week it woke Martha and she said it sounded like children squealing.  If these three are like other cats I have known, no blood has been drawn.  They simply stand in the night and howl and wail and scream at one other, and bristle so as to seem larger than they really are, and then one of them will fly away back to his territory.

We would call this primitive behavior saber rattling if these cats were nation states, or politicians, and if you watch the nightly news you might even notice similar behavior going on in Washington.  Sometimes it seems as if we have not evolved very much . . .