Tuesday, April 7, 2015

flat tale

Animals cross roads.
They do.
I sometimes wonder why though in a sort of 'why did the chicken cross the road' way.
If, for example, a beaver has a lovely pond and creek and plenty of trees to gnaw, why would it choose to cross a wide and worrisome road to get to the other side?
What about the risk factor?
I pondered all of these things last week as I hastened off to work on a cool, Spring morning.
Ahead, a movement at the side of the road caught my eye.
A big, brown beaver clambered out of the ditch and hesitated at the side of the road.
It was almost as if it was doing the math.
If a car is heading northbound at 70 km an hour and a beaver, 100 meters away begins to cross the road, how wide must the road be to allow for a satisfying conclusion for the beaver?
The beaver and I both did our quick calculations.
It launched itself onto the road and I launched myself onto the horn.
Bleat, blat, bleat!
Back it scurried.
On I sailed.
It's flat tail was the last thing I saw in my rear view mirror.
Flat tail as opposed to flat beaver.


Anonymous said...

A rather large beaver was threatening to block my lane, on my way to Blue River yesterday. He stood near the centerline, nosing the air, like an old man at a Starbucks too near-sighted to see the menu. I roared past and checked the rearview but he still hadn't made up his mind as he faded into
the black dot of a question mark.

Glenda said...

Oh, I envy you! I haven't been to Blue River for years now. How amazing to see a beaver on the way.