Thursday, April 30, 2020

Trapping a Groundhog

A groundhog has conveniently dug a hole near my sorrel. Well, it's no longer "my" sorrel. It's gone. Nibbled right down to the ground.

Often when i happen to look out the kitchen window, i see the groundhog standing right next to the hav-a-heart trap sitting right beside her hole. I see her going in and out of her home, carrying nesting material in. I think she's using last year's bee balm, which must be very fragrant.

Since i don't have cantaloupe or watermelon, which the Hav-a-Heart website recommends for groundhogs, i've been trying apple pieces, bananas, and green beans. No luck yet.

Sometimes our troublesome states of mind are equally elusive. One friend is giving me the cold shoulder. I don't know exactly why, but i can guess. I hate the feeling of being shunned. "Don't contact me," she texted me.

The next morning in meditation, i realized that "Don't contact me" is one way of saying "Don't touch me," and in these times of virus, not-touching makes a lot of sense. Okay, i sighed to myself, I won't touch you with texts or emails or even letters of apology or asking for forgiveness. I understand that she doesn't feel safe with me.

But why do i continue having a hard time letting go of this story?

I just can't trap that groundhog yet.