As I write this there is a little fieldmouse which has been crouched outside my house for about forty minutes. She may be there all night. Traffic, not much cause I live on top of a steep hill, is zooming by and people are walking by and she hasn't moved. She's paralyzed.
Flash back twelve hours. I live in a fire area where brush needs to be cleared away from near my house. By order of the fire department. So - I've had workers clearing and chopping down my backyard all day.
I think that's where she used to live.
So - her home is gone. Maybe her family is gone. Maybe everything she's ever known is gone. She has no feelings, I think, except for anxiety and fear. Both of which have paralyzed her.
If she scooted across the street she could find a cosy nest in my neighbors house. He hasn't cleared his yard yet. If she stays where she is she will probably be killed by an exuberant passing dog or a malicious child. Move. Stay. Go. Don't go.
She can't weigh the pros and cons. She doesn't have the capability. She moves with adrenaline. She sits with fear.
So there she is. I feel bad for her. I want to save her. Knowing that my intervention - my picking her up in my hand to save her - could be the cause of her death.
If she could only see what's possible, what's out there. If she could only see that one step, one imperceptible shift could lead to safety.
But there she sits, paralyzed by fear.
Sound like anyone you know?
