The Suburban Hunter
“I’m bored,” he thinks.
It’s a quiet night in the neighborhood following a plethora of quiet nights. Only a few times a year does it spark some form of unexpected life. There are two extremes; the silent and immense emptiness of noise or the impactful explosion of sound from all sides. But, for the most part, it is quiet.
This is good for hunting but boring for adventure. Old houses line the streets with various foliage. Each home offers a different environment with different creatures, obstacles, smells, and sounds. They show signs of years of living from cracks to worn paint to overgrown vines covering sides and blocking windows. The trees are fully grown and large providing some great spots to hide and watch. From time to time a vehicle will drive by with blinding lights throwing shadows against walls and giving life to darkness; then things settle down and the wind creates the only sign of life. That is, if you don’t know where to look or how to listen.
“Where can I go tonight?” he asks himself looking all around from his favorite hole. He has many options to survey surrounding environments but only one that he repeatedly goes to. It has more protection from intruding guests and light; plus, it’s quite comfy inside. He settles himself on the edge and gazes about the yard. It’s empty of options; mostly because they know he’s there, they just don’t know exactly where. But there are signs, despite his best efforts to keep it secretive.
He begins his search going West since the previous night he went East. When faced with uncertainty teetering on the rim of blandness, just do the opposite of what you did yesterday; maybe it will shake it up enough to bring some spice. He passes several houses without much care or detailed scrutiny. He decides to swing left and extend his search already. The change immediately proved to not work and he was feeling restless even as the hunt just started. This wouldn’t bode well since he usually had to find a new home after a serious case of boredom dug its claws in his mind. He sighed but didn’t have anything else to do so he kept going until he was about a mile out. This isn’t too far from his usual home range but enough that it’s been a while since he refreshed his memories with the landscape. This worked.
He felt a new sense of attention and curiosity come over him as he looked around; things were familiar yet different at the same time. Right off the bat, he spotted a small mouse running through an overgrown yard to his right. He pulled up to a tree a good distance away and kept his eye on it. It was young and barely sizable for consideration.
“Besides,” he thought, “I’ve grown tiresome of mice. Boring.”
He took off again to look around other areas but didn’t find anything else exciting. There were a couple of other mice, one being hunted by a prowling feline, a raccoon happily piling on a stack of treats from someone’s treasure box he had toppled over, and some kind of hideous armored ball thing hopping around that was foreign to him. He plopped down in a tree to be still and observe hoping to catch something he would have missed on the journey. Many times this helps; it was important to stay silent and let life continue on around you and to simply observe and learn. It is a key skill when hunting. Do not rush but be strong in your patience.
A brother in arms called out from a distance away giving greetings and exclaiming joy in his successful hunt. One mouse down. He replied in politeness but kept his focus and cocked his head around to check his back when he spotted movement. An unexpected movement. The moonlight reflected off a small pond in tiny ripples. It wasn’t unusual for bodies of water to be around the area but rarely did they ripple like this one. He decided he needed a different view and took off for a closer tree that offered a much better perspective. There were creatures inside this body of water constantly moving around in mesmerizing patterns and suddenly he realized he had found fish! Strange orange, black, white, and red spotted fish of varying sizes. His curiosities piqued his hunter instincts; he had found his prey. This was a more attractive option to the daily mouse. He looked around and noted no one else had found the secret pond; it was all to his taking.
He prepared himself on the branch and stretched out his body in excitement of the catch.
He took off! He made not a sound as he moved with skilled speed. He focused intently on his chosen prey. A medium sized orange spotted fish with only a few speckled black dots. He wanted something not overly big in case it tasted foul. As he got close everything slowed down and time seemed to stop. He stretched out his talons, corrected his approach with his wings, watched the fish unknowingly swim right to the spot he needed it to be. His brilliant eyes caught every move with precision from the abundant light of the moon. He reached out and plucked out his prey with ease and without making the slightest noise even as the fish wiggled in his claws.
He perched in a large tree and devoured his dinner. It was delicious; a rare delicacy! He had truly found a golden spot and began searching for a new hole to prop himself closer, but stopped after a short while when a thought occurred to him.
“I don’t want this to be wasted. I will stay in my usual home and only come out for treats.”
He realized quickly that was an impossible aspect for him. He went back to the pond every night for the following six days. He took a fish every night until there were no more left in his secret pond. But he did not give up hope. He continued to go back for weeks afterwards searching for more. This turned out fruitless when at last, after his fourth week of looking, he ended up with another mouse and an unsettling amount of disappointment. He may have to find a new home after all.
The following night, he went out for one last chance and landed in his hunting tree by the pond. There was no movement to indicate any extra fish and his powerful eyes saw nothing moving under the waters edge. He let out a sigh of acceptance; he would be going out further in search of a new home range tonight and he would miss the fun he had hunting those delicious fish. On a table to his left he spotted an odd shape that reflected the moonlight around a rim in interesting patterns. There wasn’t anything usually there throughout his time hunting.
He finally found a comfy hole in a large leaning tree with exquisite life growing around the entrance. He had his own little lawn just like the other creatures with their large square homes. He looked down to his left and saw the object from the table. He decided he would copy the raccoon and take a treasure with him so he would never forget the joy of finding such delectable food. It would be a reminder to never give up the search. He hooted in happiness as light began to creep up around him, so he sank back into his area and got himself comfortable to sleep in preparation of tomorrow’s hunt.
