One
evening, my
family and
I were sitting on my
grandma's porch after eating
dinner. The
sun was setting. And in the
distance, I heard it... a
wistful grunting, the sound of a male
porcupine waking up for the night.
I've never actually seen a porcupine in person. Well, I've seen many as roadkill, but I've never seen a live porcupine. I've only seen pictures. And before that night, I'd only heard one single sound clip. What I heard that night was beautiful. I felt connected.
A few days ago, I was in my parents' back yard. I was carrying a pile of scraps from the bush I had just trimmed down to their compost pile. And then I heard it... the same grunting. I could tell which direction it was coming from, but it was midday and so he'd have been hiding out in the shade anyway, but it still sounded beautiful. It probably wasn't the same porcupine, and I didn't have the same feeling of being connected, but it was still a very pleasant sound. I wished I could have found him, but I also respected his privacy too much.
Sometimes, when I'm really horny in September (which is the only time of the year I get really, truly yiffy), I fantasize about being on the receiving end of the porcupine mating ritual. To me, it's an act which is very connecting, in a very strange way. I have misgivings about peeing in an unflushed toilet which some stranger had previously peed in, becasue it seems like some sort of spiritual connection to me. Maybe I really do have the soul of a porcupine. I dunno.
Whatever.