Javelina Crossing! Surprise Encounter

Coming into Tonto Natural Bridge State Park yesterday, we had to grin at this sign.

It reminded me of unusual signs we'd seen in Australia on our mission trip to New Guinea about seven years ago,

signs that read "Kangaroo Crossing."

And signs in Colorado, "Elk Crossing."

Only here in Arizona, if it's not horse crossings or cattle crossings, it's javelinas!

Little did we know we would actually get to see a bunch of them--yes, right at the crossing! 

I was the first to spot them just as we were coming back to the car and getting ready to leave the park. Usually it's Jonathan who is the observant one, the one with the good eyes and smart mind, but this time, I had to smile, it was I!

He handed me his phone and told me to walk up and get photos while he drove up, hoping to keep the javelinas intent on the car instead of on the photographer.

I was fine until the javelinas appeared either more tame (or more wild) than I expected, and one of them started toward me instead of running away as the ones had done on Adera Canyon Trail a couple months ago.  

Jonathan claimed he got a kick out of how obviously nervous I suddenly became when the one javelina started toward me.

Of course, I would be thinking about some of the stories we'd heard about the terrible bites and toxic wounds javelinas can inflict on people under certain circumstances.

Apparently these were more tame than wild, for they did not seem to be bothered by us coming nearby. 

Jonathan managed to get several videos and few snaps of two mamas with two babies each, two wee babies always trying to get their share of Mama's meal in the form of milk.  

I think how often we come across surprises in our road--deer crossing, elk crossing, horses, cattle, pedestrians, wildlife of all sorts, skunks, kangaroos, and now javelinas. 

Certain places seem to be haunted (excuse the pun around this late October time of year) with special creatures that have their spots where they like to cross your roads--usually at unexpected times, though not always. 

Some creatures or situations are harmless enough, and you see them ahead and can simply slow down and avoid them. 

Some creatures are tame enough that you can stop and pet their noses, like friendly burros in Cripple Creek, Colorado, for example.  

Or they are at least tame enough that you can photograph them, like these javelinas or the wild horses we watched for an hour several weeks ago at the Salt River.

Others suddenly careen in front of you, like the horses that ran right in front of our van about four years ago, and there is no time to brake or dodge.

You just crash into whatever it is.

Like cancer and accidents and afflictions and disappointments of whatever sort.

But there are also the surprises along the way like autumn roses, still blooming in October in the wilderness of Arizona. 

Right in the middle of one's cancer journey, right when the javelinas start sniffing toward your neck of the lawn,

roses catch your attention. 

"And the wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them," Isaiah wrote. "And the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose."

Right in the middle of the desert and the cancer and the wild javelinas and the wilderness,

there are the roses.

There are the birds and the sunshine and the blue sky and the autumn roses and God's sweet, abiding presence,

filling all with good.