The lynx pads calmly through its yard — which just happens to be where my house is built. I have chanced to see it through the kitchen window as it appears from out of the boreal woodland behind my house. After a stunned and awed gape I scramble to tug my camera out of my backpack, but the batteries are dead! I grab up my old iPod and low-tech flip phone and fumble to open both cameras.
Unhurried, and almost regal in bearing, the Lynx canadensis walks silently confident atop the snow-covered garden of wild grasses and determined wild roses. Tufted ears and luminescent eyes remain alert. The body, although rounded by thick, fluffy fur, nonetheless exudes a dangerous sleekness.
I try to steal as quietly as possible to the front window where I peek out between the slats of the blinds, snapping furtive photos. As I gaze in continued wonder, I can understand why some Native American cultures view(ed) the lynx as a guardian of secret truths. Watching the feline stare perceptively focused into the spruce stand by my driveway, I also grasp why a person with good eyesight can easily be described as ‘lynx-eyed’. I chuckle at the reason that Polish astronomer Johannes Hevelius named a configuration of 19 stars “The Lynx” in 1687: only the keen-sighted could truly see the faint constellation. The first time I glimpsed a lynx — about a month ago, and for such a brief moment that I mused if I should doubt my eyes — it was on the other side of the George Parks Highway from which the spruce woodland separates my home. I wonder if this one is the same carnivore.
I stay cautiously inside until the grimalkin has moved down the length of the driveway and I feel brave enough to take photos from just outside the front door (but still up on the porch). The wild cat pauses, ponders, and prowls onward. I let several more minutes pass before I venture down the steps and peer at the impressions in the snow. The wide prints are clearly different from the hare and fox tracks I have not seen since the lynx first graced the neighborhood with its presence.
I feel blessed to have witnessed it.