Perhaps something’s—anything’s or even maybe, anyone’s—purpose isn’t a sole, static purpose. A thing’s existence being never singular and perhaps ever-changing, akin to the seasons.
Purpose thus transient by nature.
Pictured here: an old shack—forgotten or neglected—its designer’s aspirations but a memory. Now, this shed has become a place for wild grapes to grow and perhaps serve as a home for a raccoon or two.
Likely, a trellis for grapes and a ringtail’s abode weren’t the shed’s original reason for being built.
But consider this place’s raison d’être may have grown into something else far more than its conceived intent—a simpler yet grander testament to a new purpose.
The game of cat and mouse appears to be over. . . .
Picture 1. The critter I’ve been trying to capture on camera since April: a bobcat on a nighttime prowl. Two outdoor folks whom I highly respect (Ernie Stephens and Stephen George) independently reached the same conclusion: this does appear to be a bobcat based on its ears and shape of its head.
I knew it haunted this forest* from its tracks left in the snow the previous winter.
It knew I knew it was there.
I knew it knew that I knew it knew . . .
Well, you get the point.
New York’s Department of Environmental Conservation labels the bobcat as more common than most realize but likewise extremely elusive and rarely seen. (Concur.)
*And it could be that this feline is now only just returning to these woods. See the article from American Expedition that puts a male bobcat's territory at 30 square miles; a female's territory is smaller but still an impressive 5 square miles.
Picture 2: a potential Thanksgiving dinner not yet ready to yield: a wild turkey making a quick appearance.