In the country, the obstacles to safe driving are often different than those I knew in the city.
One day last week, shortly after leaving home, my route was obstructed by a single cow. She was standing crosswise in my lane. Generally, when a car approaches a cow in the road, said cow will step aside. This one had no such intentions. She eyeballed the car and stood there, defiant. I went around. (Side note: there used to be a calf in the neighborhood who had the occasional habit of lying down in a lane. We named it “veal” because we didn’t think that one would ever reach adulthood).
Sunday night, heading home about 11:15 from the Tucson airport after my Michigan trip, tired and anxious to get to the house, I noticed a bunch of cows flanking the road. I slowed down, watching the sides to make sure no one stepped out in front of the car. Fortunately, I happened to look dead ahead before I reached the narrow bridge on which four cows, shoulder to shoulder, were hustling directly toward me, completely blocking my lane. They were as defiant as the one mentioned above. I swerved around them, glad I had slowed already.
And this morning, heading to work (on the same country road as the previous incidents) I came upon a group of six vultures gathered around a dead cottontail. They did flap off when I got close, but slowly, as if I had greatly inconvenienced them. Huddled over their feast, they looked for all the world like a clutch of BP executives having a breakfast meeting.
It’s always something...but rarely is it a real roadblock.