I was taken aback the other day to realize that I have never seen a muskrat.
There just are not as many muskrats running around our house as there were around Thoreau's Concord. Or else I never went out to look for them.
I wonder what else I have been content until now to observe secondhand.
Autumn in Jerusalem - at least at this writing - does not come in red and orange. The winter rains are bringing forth new grass from between the fallen leaves, and what I call the Improbables - because I never saw another flower that color - are still tumbling all over the walls, and putting forth buds. It feels like snow weather, but looks like Spring. I feel offensive wearing a coat.
I suppose the flora in this neighborhood takes after the people, who stay up late: just as it is safe for people to walk around at 2:00am, it is safe for the grass and flowers to put out shoots and blossoms at the end of November. There is no time to sleep, there is no time of day or year when stepping out is solitary - there is just too much for everyone to do. On with life!