Sight

 Sight

     by D. O. R. E. Imer

In northern Manitoba, a hundred miles from the nearest road or habitat, an indigenous man sat in the snow with his back against a tree. He sat so still for so long that animals in the forest began to wonder and grow bold. This is a trick, they thought, and watched carefully. First, close to the bend in the path far from the human, a fly buzzed across the trail in full view. The other animals bated their breaths. Nothing. The indigene batted not an eye or moved a muscle. 
     “Ah, he couldn’t see him,” nodded the owl, peering at different animals with a smooth turn of the neck. Next, a weasel, brave for his size, and quick as quick can be, snuck to the edge of the path, paused, and then scurried across. And even then no sign from the still form. All the animals began to feel ease and courage. Closer to the resting man now, a rabbit hipped over the trail, then a snake slithered right by the human with his eyes fixed on his face. Then, in quick succession, a wolf loped, a fox crept, a bull shimmied, a moose meandered and a spruce hen fluttered across. Not a hair stirred on the man’s head, nor an eye blinked. 
     “Let’s do something crazy,”Toad croaked, his smile ear to ear. They all nodded together wisely, then they snickered, laughed, whinnied, hooted, howled and crowed in glee and pleasure at the thought of engaging in something fun together.