Roadside Attractions

It seems I've moved our entire house into the RV in an attempt to leave things uncluttered for our renters. The violet given to me on Mother's Day, by our daughter Burke, now jiggles along in the kitchen sink as proof of this. I couldn't bear the thought of returning home to find it dead.  Now if it dies, it will die by my hand! 

Death is a "fact of life" beside Interstate 90. Which seems a contradiction.  Just after our first toll booth exit, a spotted fawn dashed confidently into our lane of traffic, leaving its mother helplessly looking on.  I can only imagine what raced through this mother's mind. Having the athleticism and agility possessed by the young, the fawn dodged and weaved its way to  safety.  A glance in the rearview showed the doe cautiously crossing to stand at its side. Near the Pennsylvania border, a woodchuck munched on green grass with semis thundering past. As it slipped from my view, I noticed the small brown bump by its side....a baby! Shielded by its mother and naturally a less energetic animal, I think this youngster stood the chance of remaining alive. We had traveled only a few more miles when a  tiny fawn lay dead on the shoulder... no mother in sight. In my mind, I pictured the car approaching, the confusion, the impact, then the fawnless doe fleeing. One lucky fawn, one not so lucky. Why do deer have the great desire to leave the safety of the woods to challenge the hot asphalt?

I've been writing of mothers and offspring, but today is Father's Day.  Somewhere in New York I looked down from my elevated perch into a housing development. A father crouched low to catch his young daughter's pitch. She whipped her arm around in the incredible way girl's pitch softball. In the blink of an eye they too were gone. I assume he caught the ball. A brief cameo of a father's love. Early this morning before the sun heated up the day, I noticed a lone golfer standing over his ball. The comment was made,"playing with all his friends ".  I had the opposite response,

"It's probably exactly how he wants  to spend his Father's Day, alone on the golf course."  

Of the truckers that I've looked up high to see in their rigs, it appears to be just another work day.

But then again, perhaps they aren't fathers. My chauffeur is much the same. His special day will end in a Walmart parking lot in Toledo, Ohio. We'll celebrate with a cold drink, stretch our cramped legs while walking our dog, eat our supper and fall asleep to the white sounds of the city.

And, I know that's exactly how he wants to spend  Father's Day.

 

Typed on my phone, please ignore any errors.