While Walking......

I have these amusing little encounters with the local animal life while I take my morning walks.

It is not uncommon to scare up a grouse or two from the ditch. And pheasant are even more abundant. Pheasants, by the way, have to be just about the stupidest birds alive. They have extremely small heads, indicative of their limited powers of intuitive reasoning. You can be approaching one in a vehicle. The nearly witless bird crouches at the edge of the road, facing the ditch, and then, just as you come close, they fly up and turn INTO the path of one's car. But when walking, they mostly fly off over the fields.

There is a particular small, wooden bridge that I cross each day. You'd think the pigeons that roost under it would know that I am coming, but they come flapping out in breathless fear almost every morning. If I carried a gun they would have been history months ago. And, it is about this place each day that I often get a whiff of skunk. This always makes me just a "leetle" bit nervous, and I usually move to the center of the road. I figure you have more escape options that way.

Over the rise and on to the sheep pasture. This is where things get really fun. Sheep are the most weakminded creatures I have come in contact with. The first time I walked past they started raising their heads and shifting their feet nervously. Suddenly, one of them sounds the cry of alarm and they are off, tearing across the field and bleating madly. "Baaaa, baaaaa! What is that coming down the road?!" "Baaaaaa, baaaaa, I don't know. We're just stupid sheep! Let's run!" "Baaaa, baaaa, what are we running for?!" "Baaaaa, baaaaa, I don't know. Let's all just run and be stupid together!! Baaaaaa! BAAAAAAAA!!"

They have finally become so used to me that they usually just trot silently to the other side when I come. And today- today they just calmly nibbled away. An occasional head looked up, but they remained grazing in peace. You had to admire their self-control.

I couldn't glory in their accomplishments too long, for suddenly I was accosted by a rather strong skunky odor. Whoa! This is uncharacteristic of this gravel stretch. (moves to center of road, begins regular but apprehensive peripheral scanning) Enemy remained unseen. Nothing happened, THIS time. But, if ever you don't hear from me for a couple days, you will know I have been taken to a detox center.

Turning third corner, now, and coming up on "cow country." I always have this temptation when walking by them to give a loud "Moo," in hopes of eliciting some return "speech." (not unlike traveling as a kid and trying to get the trucker behind to give a toot on the airhorn) Really, though, it is quite unnerving to stride by and have them completely stop what they are doing, raise their heads and follow every move you make, all the while mechanically chewing, chewing, chewing. (was that a malevolent flicker I saw in the black and white one's staring eyes?) One gets the impression that if you dared step over the fence and come close to a calf, they would have no compunction whatsoever in methodically clomping you to a pulp. "What WAS that, Mildred?" "I don't know Elsie, but it's gone now. Just go back to your clover, dear." (Field of Dreams: What comes here, stays here. "henc, henc, moo, snort")

Rounding last turn and heading for home. I hear the honk of geese and pull off my earphones. A V of fifty geese flies directly overhead. Beautiful. What are the odds of our intersecting at precisely that right moment? Even more beautiful, that I survived that encounter "unscathed."

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