Indevan

I wandered out to the barn last night as dusk was settling down and getting comfortable on the hills where we live. The boys were shooting their pistols and revolvers--they have a small arsenal between them. Believe it or not, I have never fired a handgun, which I find appalling (generally sticking to my favorite, a .22 rifle, because even though it sounds like a light wimpy gun with no kick, if you're good with it, it doesn't matter that the bullet is small. And I'm not too bad). So the boys undertook to teach me.

It's not what I expected. Heavier, rougher (two pinched fingers), louder, and less accurate (I couldn't hit anything). But I do believe a concealed weapons permit is a good idea (everyone should take the class), and I want to know more about handguns so I'm not so leery of them. Knowledge makes a better weapon, anyway, in more ways than one. And I need to get better. Granted, the bottle cap fell out of the knothole, but my brother claims that it was just because the board jarred it loose. I can't really contest that yet, but I'll show'm. ;)

We stopped when the sun sank below the horizon with an audible groan of relief, and the fireflies began to scatter across the pink-skied hayfields with small shrieks of joy. The fields and forests were fair crackling with them. And then...a red fox ran across, weaving between the round bales of hay. He stopped and looked at me for a long moment. There's something unworldly about looking into the eyes of a wild creature. It makes you feel...smaller. A little more humble. I have a lot to learn.