27 August 18 – Lynx

First, let’s get one thing straight: Are bobcats and lynx the same? Well, yes and no. Both are medium sized cats that have tufted ears and short, bobbed tails. Despite these similarities, the two felines are separate species but do belong to the same genus which to add to the confusion is the lynx genus. Four cats belong to this genus; the term “lynx” is in the names of three; the fourth is the bobcat. I told you: the answer is yes, and no.

The bobcat is the most common wild feline in North America. The Canadian Lynx does make frequent appearances in the far north of the United States. Both cats stay solitary most of the time and are largely nocturnal. They are most active in the darkness of night, as is appropriate to today’s poem. The snowshoe hare rates number one on the lynx’s menu; this food source is largely found in boreal forests. The only area where the Canadian lynx and the bobcat coexist is along the U.S.-Canada border.

So very much more information on the lynx and the bobcat can be had; however, on to the poem. Please note, that the single word of the title appears nowhere in the poem. Also notice that it appears that a human’s voice speaks the poem. Also, the lynx has nothing against the dark, whereas for people, the light is relatively easy; however, the dark is at least mildly frightening for most of us. Some people seem to be “night owls’; however, unless one is working a third or fourth shift, staying awake at night is considered abnormal, and often leads to disturbed daytime sleep or insomnia. The poem makes us wonder whether or not the speaker will take the nocturnal leap, and if so why or why not.

Finally, a dilemma arises: whether to stay comfortably and perhaps ignorantly in the light, or despite fear, dare to discover what the dark holds. Please put your cat-ears on and consider the poem’s proposition. As you do, you might recall a line from Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, wherein Ben says to Willie Loman, “The jungle is dark but full of diamonds, Willy. One must go in to fetch a diamond out.”

Lynx

            

                        I am too comfortably used to the light

            “Why on Earth,” I ask myself, “would I want 

                        to go into the dark?”

                                    Because it is what you do not know

                                    and what you fear to discover.

            Anyone can see in the light.

                                    Few ever know the deeper order

                                                of the dark

Background:

The Lynx has always fascinated me. A creature of the far north; even farther north than I live just thirty miles south of Manitoba. I’ve seen bobcats every once in a while, in this Forest, and a DNR friend recently told me that he had spotted a lynx. However, one encounter will stay with me for the rest of my life. The incident that I’m about to relate almost certainly only occurs in boreal Forests like Beltrami Island Forest where I live, and then only rarely. I’m talking about a human (yours truly) and the feline in question.

My Shelty, Bob, and I were out for a walk on the twisting trails that we, and a few “neighbors” carved out of the Forest. In the very early spring, when snow still covered the ground Bob and I entered the cat world. Suddenly Bob burst ahead a short way, stopped and stared into the bushes. Clearly, he had spotted something. Slowly, I came up beside him, about four feet away. The next moment, a furry limb studded with sharp claws pawed at the air in front of Bob’s face. Bob stood transfixed for only a few moments, and then pawed the air right back toward the hidden playmate. Rustling in the bushes and more air-pawing, and then the game was afoot – or a-paw. A bobcat kitten rushed out of the underbrush, ran straight for Bob, and pounced on his back. This looked way too much like a full-grown bobcat attacking a deer, so before the kitten could sink teeth into Bob’s neck, I shooed it away. (Perhaps I should have let the encounter play out; however, I would never have forgiven myself if Bob had lost an eye or worse.) Bob took earnest pursuit for about ten seconds, and then returned to my side and to domesticity, his appetite for the wild sated. The intersection of play and prey had unfolded and had as quickly vanished.

Exploration 1: Please tell our other writers and our readers about any encounters you have had with lynx or bobcat, however brief.

Exploration 2: Consider the differences between the light and the dark. Conjecture why almost no humans are nocturnal, and why that might be.

Exploration 3: What is your interpretation of the meaning of “the deeper order of the dark?”

PS: In case you wonder, about 2,000 bobcats live in Minnesota. Lynx are bi-national, so it’s hard to say who gets to include them in their count.

NOTE: If you want a thrilling but vicarious wildlife experience with two lynxes in Ontario, google by typing in “howling lynx youtube,” and you’ll hear something the likes of which you’ve almost certainly never seen or heard before. So, worth the time.

Your Monday poet, Jack Pine Savage