last night Deets rushed into an Antelope Bitterbrush: woody, most tangly undergrowth, low to the ground, and fiercely fence-like. Deets had been wearing her “night necklace” which makes her look like the tiniest animal at the rave and helps me locate her without difficulty. she dashed into that matted tangle of sticks though and lost the necklace in their depths. on leash, this was quite the annoyance. (today she is roaming free to celebrate: Sunday, sunshine, springtime, mother’s day, our last Sunday just we two in this beautiful broad high desert garden home.) Bitterbrush cannot be approached simply; it spreads wide and stout, a mass of sticks. there is no stepping into or toward Antelope Bitterbrush, only on, and against. I attempted to place my feet strategically to prevent destroying too much of this plant which I assume all the neighborhood farmers loathe. I managed to get one foot all the way to the ground as I wondered how my pants would fare; better them than my bare legs, I thought gratefully. luckily I was also wearing my most durable jacket! so I slipped my sneaky hand between, among, through, slowly reaching as if through a sinister puzzle box, again finding gratitude when I realize that although spiky and tough, this bush is pricker-less. the night necklace is still glowing when I finally wrap my hands around it. I am delighted with myself. Antelope bitterbrush doesn’t give to breaking the way Scrub Oak chips and cracks and chunks off as soon as one bumps it. oh no, Bitterbrush holds firm, scrappy, gets up every time and never taps out. somehow, as I grasped my plastic goal, a little spry branch of this pudgy fierce bush swung out of nowhere to whip across my face. once again I felt mercy as this slash of brush missed my eye but barely. I had been holding the glowing ring, ready to make my escape, until I reacted to that smack by losing my footing completely and flopping over from my crouched stance, crashing heartily into the breadth of brush. poked from all angles and sides now but laying quite comfortably considering, again: gratitude. even that short of a fall onto the unyielding desert floor would have smarted. instead, I found myself bolstered cozily, and a little stuck. therewith followed a bit of rolling while my hands searched for purchase amidst a nest of stabby sticks. this whole time by the way Deets is waiting not super patiently because her leash is also tangled in this undergrowth: the next problem I plan to solve after I get my heavy-feeling bottom out from the grasp of this fiendish flora. I rested like that for a moment before using mostly willpower to launch my body out onto the freedom of solid ground and standing. I replaced Deets’ necklace while I held her harness, unhooked the leash, and easily dragged it back through the tangle—so small and sleek compared to my body—to us. reattached and well-lit, Deets led us elsewhere.

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