“Bob, what is that?”
We were just outside our back door, and Honey was pointing toward the edge of the woods. I looked, expecting to see some animal, but instead saw a grid made up of five inch squares glistening in the sunlight. It seemed to be hovering right at the point where the underbrush takes over.
Neither of us had ever seen it before.
I told her that I thought that it looked a little like hog wire, but I didn’t think that was possible. It was in the area where we had a pigpen back when our daughters were in elementary school, but after the hogs went to the butcher, we tore the pen down. That was over thirty years ago.
The next time we came out, the grid was gone, and we haven’t seen it since. We looked that way every time we came out for the last two weeks, but we never saw it again.
Yesterday morning, I walked out to the edge of the woods, and sure enough, there is a fifteen foot section of the old hog pen still standing. I had to walk within about six feet of the fence before I could see it – it’s dull and rusty and blends in perfectly with the brush around it. To see it from the house, the angle of the sunlight had to be just right, and the odds against that must be astronomical.
I have no memory of leaving that one section up, and no idea why I would have, but there it is.
You still can’t see it from the house, even when you know it’s there.
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