The Mouse Whisperer

Family History Writing Challenge - Day 11

** NOTE: The italicized font is creative non-fiction. Based upon the stories of my mother and uncle it is my creative writing of their memories. **

The smell of newly mown hay wafted across the front yard, tinged with salt and wildflowers. Mason walked down into the field from the front porch. Very carefully stepping onto the winnowed rows she walked ever so slowly, head bowed, shoulders hunched, eyes searching for any slight movement in front of her. Huh, what was that? Just to the right of her foot she saw a stalk of grass move. Crouching down, Mason gently pushed aside the hay. Oh there you are! Mason gently reached out her hand and picked up a baby field mouse. Drawing her self upright, she inspected the little creature, gazing into its little black eyes; Mason tenderly stroked its soft gray fur then gently placed it in her dress pocket. For over an hour Mason continued stepping, searching, stooping, scooping and placing field mice in her pockets. The late spring sun warmed her shoulders, as she slowly walked; the soft wind ruffling her hair. Mason stood to stretch, looking out across the road the ocean sparkled in the afternoon sun, purple and pink Lupine swayed in the breeze. It was a clear day and she could see Grand Manan, some day she thought, I would like to visit there. A rustle in her pocket brought her out of her day dream, looking down four little black eyes gazed back at her. Tiny whiskers twitching the two little field mice moved toward the opening. “Oh no, you don’t” Mason said to her new pets, “it’s time to go home.”