When I think of Interlochen, I can’t help but thinking of lines. Morning line-up, lines for meals, lines for tickets, lines at the Melody Freeze.
The animal kingdom is filled with lines, too.
Take baby skunks. Skunk kits look just like adults, only cuter.
They develop musk glands when they are about eight days old, and they learn how to spray after a few weeks.
Kits stay in their nests for about the first three weeks of their lives, but when they do emerge, the stubby-legged infants follow their mother in a single-file line.
Should one stray, the mother immediately shoves it back in line.
Years ago, back when the audience at the Interlochen Bowl sat on green park benches, a mother skunk and her entourage of three kits were out for an evening stroll and decided to take a shortcut through the audience during a concert.
Every person in that row, as of one accord, silently lifted their feet so as not to disturb the performance, and, more importantly, so as not to disturb the skunks.
This story has a happy ending.
The skunk procession passed by about 50 people without mishap, and the orchestra played on, totally unware of the nocturnal parade.