Stalking
- Ready to stalk some muskrats, Shmoopers? Because that's what we're about to do.
- But first, Eskimo time again.
- In the summertime, caribou run away from the mosquitoes of the inland tundra to the cooler shores of the Arctic. Eskimos follow them and stalk them for days, getting up close to kill them.
- Annie wants to get up close to some muskrats, but muskrats are notoriously hard to spot.
- Her desire to see one started by accident—she saw one. She was at the creek looking at bluegills, and suddenly a young muskrat came floating by on its back, just chillin'.
- When Annie found out how rare it was to see such a thing, given that muskrats are notoriously skittish and elusive, she became obsessed with them.
- Watching animals, especially skittish ones, is an art form. You have to sneak up to where they live while they're hiding, then wait for one to come out. You can't move—if you move when you're waiting for muskrats, they'll never reveal themselves.
- When Annie looks at the mountains, they tell her nature "gathers and abides;" when she looks to the creek, it tells her nature scatters.
- In other words, when you spend your time hanging out beside a creek that's constantly in motion, it's impossible to predict the path of an individual creature. You just have to stalk and hope.
- It's kind of like quantum physics, she says. You can guess what a batch of electrons is going to do, but you can't predict the path of an individual electron.
- Another thing you have to stalk: the spirit. You can't see spirit; you can't see God.
- To sum up, muskrat = electron = spirit. Got that?
- Even the tiniest glimpses are a gift, though. You just have to stay still, wait it out, and be awed by what you see.