Last week, we experienced the quintessential New Mexico monsoon. An end-of-the-world thunderstorm which lasted for a good three hours, plus rain which was so solid that there was negligible distance between the drops. It was the kind of storm which both awes and causes one to doubt oneself: Nature at its best. Storms such as this might disorient the most steady of creatures, cause ships to go off course, evoke a sense of temporary suspension from the rules, blast paint from the top of one’s truck… ahem!
A tiny, velvety bat sought refuge on the landing outside my second floor dwelling. I believe her home is just across the way, under the eaves of my neighbor’s studio. Caught in the maelstrom, this place must have felt vaguely familiar and, at least, high up. She slumbered fitfully behind a rattan chair all the next day. At twilight, she vanished.
The bat is a good sign. In the medicine cards, bat is rebirth. I have always considered them magical. The Chinese consider bats to be great good fortune. SO… there you have it. Bats have it all. I am so grateful that this perfect little bat came to visit.
Big Wall, Small Bat