Something light tonight: Sunday Night, by MaryHelen Swanson

Posted 9/27/01

Something light tonight: Sunday Night, by MaryHelen Swanson

With a flip of the page on the desk calendar, itís autumn. Our friend, let us call him Carter, sets out on his annual journey. Carter is a kind of hermit, preferring to live and travel by himself, although he has many relatives near by. Dressed in his fur coat, in somber colors of black and brown, he heads out, taking absolutely nothing with him on a trip that will lead him through perilous territory, over treacherous ground and under the stomachs of mammoth dragons that pass frequently through this wilderness. Leaving the security of the forest where he has lived for about three months, he soon arrives at the woodland area where grass has been eaten by a giant with a massive mandible that grinds, ever grinds, round and round while he growls angrily with enormous magnitude.

Our brave Carter walks on. The sun beats on his coat and he is warmed, in spite of the chill of this fall day. Onward, Carter, onward. Soon he enters the white zone, an area not often tread upon by travelers, even the dragons keep away from this area for the most part. It is, however, a safe territory. Carter crosses without incident. No stop for a drink, not even for a small snack. Heís on a mission.

Carter then braces for the toughest part of his journey. The black zone. The surface is rough, often pocked with deep ravines, and it is here, in this unsafe area, that he must avoid the dragons. With a huge gulp, and a silent prayer, Carter moves on. The path is long, he passes dark patches, oily patches, where he assumes the dragons have been merciless to his kin.
Oh, no! Here comes a dragon! Carter cannot run, he cannot hide. But if he doesnít move, he too could become a spot. And, if the dragon gets close but misses him, Carter could get blown back to the white zone or to territories unknown by the foul breath of this great monster. Maybe, Carter thinks, the dragon wonít see him. With a roar so unimaginable, this dragon passes over him, placing Carter in the shadows of death. Yet, for some unknown reason, this time the dragon rejects him and races off in search of other victims.

Carter advances as fast as he can, reaching the safety of the yellow zone that signals the completion of half his journey. Once again, mustering great courage, heís off. Oh, no, another dragon! This time Carter is too close to the dragon and his coat is brushed by the large black feet of this horrible creature. Carter rolls into a ball and takes the tumble easily, ending up much closer to the final white zone than he anticipated. Unharmed, he stretches, regains composure and continues his journey.

At last, Carter passes through the final white zone and arrives in the safety of another grassy area. Soon he will find a home, safe and secure, where he will curl up, exhausted from this journey, and sleep for nine long months.

Question? What is it exactly, that compels caterpillars to cross the highways in the fall? And do they, on their journeys, stop to greet one another in the middle of the road, say ěhowís it going?î and shake hands, hands, hands, hands, hands..............? Pleasant dreams, Carter, see you in the spring.