Saturday morning, upon hearing a galloping sound, I glanced outside. A rather largish buck with big horns was moving fairly fast through a narrow path in the garden. Without a pause he leapt over the six foot fence narrowly missing Shelley's Volvo parked in the driveway. Stunned and awed, I continued to gaze outside. A juvenile racoon sauntered by while five feet above it a hummingbird flitted seeking the nectar from the feeder. Faithful Street certainly felt like an urban wilderness. I marvelled at how these creatures have managed to adapt to our encroachment. I wonder how we will adapt when the same happens to us.
.. . . In which a pig piñata project becomes a metaphor for life. If pigs could fly, it would be like a pigger pointing at the moon. This is not a place to collect sign posts. The pig as us!
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