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into the ravine. The last thing I saw was a scuffling in the leaves under a box elder, which was bursting with red spring flowers at the tips of the^ branches.
My farm is set in the rolling hills of Rappahannock, in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Quite secluded. No humans around, only Mother Nature could see me. So I took off all the dispos 'e clothes. I tied them in ;i small jund' with a piece of last year’s baling twine that was lying in the field, and then went into the house to take a hot bath. With fresh clothes and bathed I was respectable again.
That night the breeze brought just the faintest odor into the house from the direction of the toppled cage. Julia read out loud from the animal book: “The secretion from a skunk is used in trace quantities to add a musk fragrance to expensive perfumes.”
“Yes,” I said, “but even though we are getting this trace for free, I hope it blows away.”
The breeze did indeed clear the air, but what could I do with that tight bundle of musk clothing? Next morning I speared the smelly package on a pitchfork, and went back into the ravine. I sought out a large burrow, and pushed the disposables deep inside. If that was where the skunk was hiding, it would be a token of remembrance of our encounter. If it was the hole of a new woodchuck, the package was a warning, a shot across the nose, so to speak. A declaration that the war against woodchucks was still on.
Dr. Hawkins is an internationally-known author and astronomer, who numbers among his book credits “Stonehenge Decoded” and “Beyond Stonehenge.” A resident of Woodville, Dr. Hawkins will be featured on ABC this fall in “Secrets and Mysteries of Stonehenge.”
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