For the past 24 years at the cabin on Fishing Creek, we’d make note of bat o’clock – the time just before dusk, when the bats come out over the creek by the dozens, flitting, flipping, zooming, circling, diving, feeding. We used to take folding lawn chairs out to the side yard, where we would lay flat and just watch the night fall, bats rising from the creek, zooming all around. Sometimes – ooh! you’d feel them whoosh just by your face. It never felt creepy, only cool.
Today, the airspace is filled with tree canopy, but if you walk down the rocks to the swimming access in front of the cabin, you can see/feel/smell it like it always was, and the bats still start zooming at, oh, around….early dusk, otherwise known as…bat o’clock.
The cabin is as steady and delicious as it ever was, and this time of year, the shagbark hickory leaves are starting to fall – big and broad, they know how to shade. And when the rain slaps those big leaves, with the constant sound of the moving creek beyond…zzzzzzzz. Nap-ville at the cabin on Fishing Creek.