There but for the Grace of God...

January 9, 2010

They're Out There?

One balmy night this past August I was letting the dog out one last time before heading to bed.  It was late-ish, probably 11:30p or so.  Weather permitting, I always go outside with her after the sun sets.  I'm a worrywart puppy mamma, and there are wolves and coyotes and bears out there.  Seriously, there are.  It's one of the perks of living in the Great North Woods.  My usual routine is to step out on the deck with the spotlight to shine the field around the house before letting the dog out.  Usually, all I see are deer.  The occasional skunk.  Perhaps a raccoon.  On this particular night I saw nothing.  So, I let the dog come out and she scampered down the steps to do her business.  (Note to self: find out why the act of excreting bodily waste is referred to as doing business.)

So, while she searched for a prime piece of real estate, I turned my eyes to the heavens.  I was blithely looking for a constellation or two, pleased with myself for remembering them from the half of an astronomy class I took ten years ago, when I noticed flashing lights in the sky.  I was surprised, but not alarmed.  I stepped further down the deck to see if I could get a better look.  As I changed positions, I realized the lights were not moving, just flashing.  They were in a cluster and appeared to be hovering above the tree line north east of the house.  I say appeared, because I couldn't really see the tree line.  If you've ever experienced a summer night in the country, with no ambient light from houses or street lamps, you'll appreciate just how dark it was.  The porch light and mercury light in the yard only illuminate about a 50 ft circle.

I stared at those lights for a good minute or two before it occurred to me what they probably were.  The awareness came to me slowly, as I stared and tried to reason it out in my mind.  The little hairs on the back of my neck came to attention.  That hot needle, prickly feeling swept up my chest and over my face as I came to the conclusion that there, hovering above my field, was...... Eeeeeeeek!  A UFO!!!!!!  An honest to God UFO, right there in my field!  Given that I was reared on Unsolved Mysteries, I am ashamed that it took me so long to come to this conclusion, but once I did, my mind went immediately to alien abduction, which is, of course, the most logical conclusion.  Why else would they be there?  I mean, I am the perfect candidate.  I have what my granny referred to as birthing hips, obviously made to withstand the rigors of an alien/human hybrid birth.  My thoughts started racing...

Will it hurt?

How long will they keep me?

Will I remember the procedure or just think I'm getting fat and one day pop out a little alien baby?

No one will believe it.  I'll be one of those crazies we make fun of on the Sci-Fi network.  I owe them an apology.

All these thoughts and more went through my head, but my major concern was: Could I actually love an alien baby?  Could The Captain? 

Something in my heart twisted at the thought.  I think it was a mini stroke.

I briefly considered getting The Captain, but I was trying to stay reasonably calm and rational.  He was sleeping and I was hesitant to wake him if the UFO posed no actual threat.  He values sleep more than I do, and in some corner of my mind I knew I may be slipping off the Unsolved Mysteries deep end.  Mostly, I was afraid they'd make a move when I wasn't looking.  So, I stood there watching the UFO, waiting to see what would happen next.  As I watched, I edged back closer to the door, called the dog in and prepared to make a lunge for it, incase they did indeed have abduction in mind.  My anxiety driven thoughts were all over the place. 

Could that really be an alien air craft?

Is there really life on other planets?

If God could do it here, He could do it anywhere.

Wait, are they like us, with the whole free will thing?

I bet they are.  I bet some idiot pisses them off by taking pot shots at their spaceships.

We're screwed.  No way we could withstand an alien invasion.  Superior strength, superior technology.

Maybe they won't actually want to eat us or exterminate us.  Maybe they'll make us slaves.  Or pets.

While thinking these profoundly rational thoughts, my attention never wavered from those flashing lights in the sky.  I must have stood watching them for a good 15 minutes.  There was a light breeze teasing the ends of my hair.  It felt good in the summer heat but did nothing to relax my jumping nerve endings.  I was about to turn tail and head inside, not sure if my pounding heart could withstand much more of just standing there.  Vulnerable.  But also not sure if I could just leave with them there, watching, not being able to see when they made their move.  I had almost convinced myself they were just sight seeing, when it happened.  The wind picked up and the UFO started moving.  Eeeeeeek!  I started to make a break for the door, my eyes still trained on it when a huge gust of wind came out of nowhere and the UFO was revealed in its entirety.  There, in the sky before me, suspended above the tree line, was...................... the moon.  I had only one thought:

Thank God! I am so not ready to decide what to do with an alien baby.

Yes.  I am that big of an idiot.  My whole UFO experience consisted of the moon hanging just below the tree line at the very corner of the trees, where the slight breeze rattled the leaves, making the light sparkle and twinkle through.

As relief flooded my system, calming my frazzled nerves, the coyotes started yipping and howling in the field, sending them bouncing and jiggling all over again.  I high tailed it inside, crawled into bed, snuggled up to The Captain and spent the rest of the night dreaming about The Borg.

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