Cradle

The glare was intense. It’s eyes bright green peering out of black fur. I felt like an intruder as the gaze pierced. The cat was on a rickety dock at the end of Turtle Flats hunkered down in that pose halfway between sit and sprawl. The sun was up and over the horizon but it was still early and the world was adjusting from night. Fish roiled the surface of the water as they pounded down as much food as they could before the inevitable onslaught from above. Sparrows zipped around picking off the insects hovering just over the water. My paddle was the loudest noise in all this activity. The cat was affronted by my presence. I passed by and headed south. On my return up river the cat was gone but the glare remained.