By Jim Knox

I’ll always remember the first night my parents gave me the car keys. I had received my license and I was finally permitted to drive my family and friends. To celebrate, we went out to Friendly’s for some ice cream. Yet, one thing made that night especially memorable. On the way home, a tawny creature streaked across my high beams with blurring speed. The animal covered Whippoorwill Road in just two bounds. If it weren’t for the fact it paused at the hedgerow on the shoulder, or that my brother and our friend screamed out with excitement, I might have doubted my eyes. There, paused for a fraction of a second, was a ghost of an animal—often rumored, yet rarely seen.

Lynx rufus, or the Bobcat, is an American original. From the Mojave Desert to the Rocky Mountains and from Maine

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