One morning while walking Otis, I was fortunate to have a group of bats setting in for the day. The formation was astounding. Their dance was chaotic and graceful as they swirled around, preparing to go in and rest as we were all just waking. It was a fantastic start to my day.
When I was a kid, we would take nature excursions. Many of these were in our suburban backyard, but the wonder was still there. One favorite activity was to throw tennis balls up for the bats to follow. My sister and I would spend the twilight hours after dinner tossing balls up, and the bats would divert to investigate, then gracefully go back to the original flight path. Some of the bats would come quite close to the ground before deciding the ball was not what they were looking for and speed back up to cruising flight. It was amazing to watch. We learned that bats don’t hit anything they don’t intend to, and they are not interested in humans. And, the best thing of all, they eat as many bugs as they can each night, especially mosquitos.

Summer is over by the human calendar, but the air continues to hang heavy way into the evening. When I first moved, the noise of the interstate and HVAC bank was rattling. Now it’s dumbed down to a constant river with an occasional siren or rig gear. It’s nice enough to sit on the apartment porch, decompress, and watch the bats zip along at eye level. It’s a narrow airstrip from the building to the grove along the fence. They file along one by one. I’m never sure I’ve gotten an accurate count as they make rounds with a slight break before the leader. It won’t be long before they are cuddled up for the winter. I hope, wherever I end up, I’ll always have bats.