Oh my god, blood all over the walk, wheel tracks leading away. Did Jim fall off the John Deere lawnmower and then get run over?
But no, there he was, coming down the path, ready to do chores, no sign of mishap or injury. Hey.
I was pretty upset when I saw those pools of blood. This part of the walkway is right outside the bedroom window, and if some creature had some kind of mishap, it was awfully near the house. No sign of feathers or fur, though. No screeching sounds the night before.
Just this evidence of foul play in the morning. And it was still wet. There is a huge coyote who visits our neighbor's yard, and we have bobcats who hunt near our meadow. What could have happened?
I went to investigate.
But wait. As I stood right over the evidence, the walk was clear -- there was only a dribble of dampness along the stones.
I backed up and once again the stones were blood soaked. Huh? I looked up.
There, in the distance was the culprit. The red maple, blazing in the sun, had cast a blood red reflection onto a little patch of wetness in the shade.
The tracks in the grass were my own, from the garden cart. The dampness was from a little bit of spilled hose water. The sight of carnage outside my window was nothing more than autumn sunlight and fall foliage playing tricks.
I have to tell you, it really scared me.