Life itself is but a series of close calls. Darius, Atlanta

What is that? I asked the HVAC tech,
pointing to his picture of the rodent-crafted structure
he’d found inside our outdoor air conditioner.

Built of twigs and leaves and dried grasses,
sprinkled with downy white feathers,
the mass looked more condo complex than mouse mound.

Impressive nest was my exclusion expert’s reaction.
And built right next to the capacitor and other electronics
to stay warm. They do like their comfort!

While I appreciate Dylan’s ability to catch these critters
or keep them outside the house where they belong,
I do not share his awe, I thought.

And yet … how often have I shared the picture of
what these tiny creatures crafted over the past few days.
Laughed in wonder, thought about how grateful I am.

The mice chewed no wires and fried no circuits.
Didn’t set themselves or the compressor on fire.
No animals were harmed during the nest’s removal.

A mischief of mice can build a basketball-sized brood nest
in just a few days or a week.
A single pair of mice can produce 5,000 babies in just a year.

What are the odds, I wondered?
Of the mice choosing the close to brand new unit
instead of the 22-year-old one?

Of the HVAC tech coming this week,
not two weeks earlier, before construction had started.
Of the mice stocking their own snacks instead of
chewing on the wires.

How many times in this sweet life have I lucked out,
had a close call, dodged disaster or narrowly escaped
without ever taking note of my good fortune?

Or if I did happen to notice, focused instead
on all that could have gone wrong
instead of savoring the delicious delight of what did not.