Driving down the Ridge one morning this week, I saw a young deer dash across the road. It looked like the car may have hit the deer. I stopped, thinking of the “Never Just One” theory, and although another deer didn’t appear, a dog did. He went to investigate in the bushes where the deer was last seen. I joined him, and could find no sign of the deer, so the car must just have clipped the little guy. At least he wasn’t too injured to run away. The driver, who had parked his car on the road too, was very relieved to hear that the deer was in running condition. It was funny, though, because he himself looked more like the kind of guy who would hunt a deer rather than worry about one, wearing a trucker’s hat and plaid shirt.
We both got back in our cars and went on our deerless ways, but I couldn’t help thinking about the deer and how afraid I am of hitting one, or a cyclist, and how much likelier this scenario would be as the mornings and evenings got darker earlier. With the long hours I’m working these days, I’m kind of dreading the darkness driving as fall and winter approach.
A YEAR AGO: Apparently I am never too injured to shop. Or have a spa day.