One for the Team

 

Only a small part of the massive boulder was on my lot, but all of the shade was from my tree, so I sat on the ground and used the boulder like the back of a chair.  It was just comfortable enough.  I could hear the kids from one block over playing softball.  I have, on occasion, walked around and watch them play.  Both sides have team jerseys, although I have no clue who paid for those.  It isn’t like it is officially sanctioned from the little league. From what I can tell it is just the neighborhood kids who set it all up and keep it going.  It’s sort of impressive when you think about it.

I think the next time I sit here I’ll bring my camera.  I’m just noticing all the odd little things here in the grass.  One caterpillar in particular is brightly colored and has sharp spikes sticking up all over its body.  It is currently making its way from the boulder to the sleeve of my shirt.  I doubt I want to touch it.  I seem to remember reading that brightly colored things in nature are usually poisonous.

OK, I’m hearing the baseball players yelling.  It doesn’t sound like someone hit a home run.  It’s more like they are screaming, like something has happened.  Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good, and it doesn’t seem to be stopping.   I know it is about 91° today.  Playing baseball in this heat can’t be much fun.  It’s fine for me, I’m here in the shade and this rock feels cool on my back.  I doubt the insects down here in the grass are affected by the heat.  In fact, I bet whatever lives under this boulder has no clue what happens up here on the surface.

The more I thought about the tiny creatures living beneath this massive rock, the more I began to wonder about the amount of downward pressure a rock this size must exert.  Those worms and beetles must really have to work hard to make their way through the compacted earth.  Now I’m no scientist, but thinking at the molecular level, there must be air between the dirt molecules allowing the slightest movement, as forced by a passing insect.  The time of day is now becoming an issue, for I see my area of shade is growing smaller.  In trying to scoot a little to my left I discover I cannot move.  I need to remain out of the Sun, but why can’t I get my arms and legs to move.  It almost feels like I am paralyzed, but how can that be?

The last thing I remember was thinking about the tiny life forms living beneath this boulder… No, wait…  I remember screams coming from the next block over, and I remember the brightly colored caterpillar crawling onto my shirt.  It looked amazing and very beautiful, but possibly poisonous.  

Maybe that’s why my arm hurts.  Maybe that thing bit me, and now I have poison running through my bloodstream affecting my muscles.  How long have I been sitting here?  Again, I try to move, but there is nothing, only the Sun moving slowly up my legs, and they are feeling all of the 91°.

 

 

 

To be continued