Me & My Shadow
I've been working at home a lot lately, writing and editing, mostly. In the early mornings, before the rest of the house is awake, I've been taking walks to the far, infrequently visited corners of our 80 acres. I've noticed that my shadow has been following me in a very odd way--almost like a detective "tailing" a suspect.
Yesterday, I caught a glimpse of my shadow as he passed in front of a sizable oak on the southeast corner of our land. I'd been sitting on top of the hill, on the moss-covered girth of a fallen maple trunk, copy-editing some text and just contemplating. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my shadow watching me.
A pair of pileated woodpeckers laughed maniacally to each other from opposite sides of our beech grove. This distracted me momentarily and, when I looked for him again, my shadow was gone.
I caught sight of him a few more times as I walked up the brambly hillside, across the gushing draw, along the township road, and down our drive. But I didn't let on that I saw him.