Hardly Peaceful.

Sunday mornings can leave me really tired.  Really drained.  If it's a nice day & the tide is out I like to walk through the mangroves to the point.  I will sit out on the rocks for a while just being quiet.  Maybe praying.  Letting whatever the morning has held just drain away.  Restoring my soul.

I have a problem.  Sometimes two.

Unless I can sneak away undetected my cats like to accompany me.

Kirby has a really well defined idea of where my place is.  He gets terribly upset if I step outside that territory.  And he's a yowler. He yowls until he finds me.  He yowls every time he looses sight of me.  He yowls to let me know he's had enough & thinks it's time to go home.

Marlow squeaks.  He's easier to ignore.  He's also usually right underfoot.

I proceeded to the point accompanied by yowls & squeaks.  It was hardly peaceful.  Rather than repeat the outward journey wherein I was forced to wait while Kirby yowled & protested & insisted I had completely lost him, I decided to climb the hill & walk across the 10 or so acres of the point & slide through the fence  because it is invariably quicker.

It was certainly quicker today! We no sooner stepped out from under the trees onto the sunlit dappled grass than I became aware of the circling shadow.  A whistling kite was on the hunt overhead!  Both cats bolted ~ in different directions.  I shot after them calling madly. *sigh* I'd lock them in the house only then they yowl @ the MOTH.