Monday Morning Window
From my window here at my computer table I can see highway US1 just a few feet away. I can also see a lot of cyclists going by on what may be morning commutes, but a lot of them look like they don't have jobs. So who are they and where are they going? It is seven A.M. They must be commuters. But what caught my eye is a Really Big Bird standing just on the edge of the highway, just inches from traffic. This bird, a Sand Hill Crane or Blue Heron or something is about three feet tall and is definitely going to get hit by one of the cars rushing North on their way to wherever cars go.
Now I should do something besides sit here and drink coffee and type, I should run out there and shoo this bird off for its own good. But what if I startle it and it flies into traffic? So instead I sit here, waiting to hear a screech of brakes and a loud “FUMPH!”. These birds always seem to come in pairs and this one is alone. I can read a lot of meaning into that fact, but listen, it is Monday, a day when the Blues Rule the World so I'll let that Blue Heron widower take care of himself while I do the same. It's Monday and I gotta get through Today somehow my ownself.
Coyote Bird Services
But while I typed that sentence Coyote showed up outside my window, trying to be a Bird Herder. He is shooing the Bird over towards my trailer, away from traffic. Good ol' Coyote. I step outside to cheer him on.
“This Bird is hurt, or sick or something,” he says. “What should I do?”
“I don't know, Coyote. He's lost his mate or something and has been standing out in traffic all morning.”
“Should we call somebody?”
“Last year when that hawk that was shot landed on my porch, I called the Daytona Bird Lady and she said to wrap him in a towel and bring him to her.”
“What did you do?”
“I fed him sliced turkey from the Winn Dixie Deli for three days and then he was gone.”
We Talk It Over
Meanwhile the Big Bird is standing there, three feet away, listening. To passerby it must look like a three-way morning conversation, but one of the guys is a Really Big Bird. At least we are away from the edge of the highway. Coyote has his camera and I try to take a picture of him and the bird, but just then Noisy Tony comes up, talking as always and the bird moves off. Tony notices the camera and starts trying to angle around to make sure he is in the shot, talking all the while.
But it is Monday Morning and one sure way to jinx my week is to start it with that jackass babbling in my ear so I wink at Coyote and we both turn to go back to our trailers as Noisy Tony's voice fades into the background sounds of the highway.
The Road Is Long
Sometimes when Looking Out My Window I see fully loaded touring bikes going by, and I have to resist an urge to grab my bike and go after them, catch up and ask who they are, where they're coming from, where they are headed. But I don't want to scare them into traffic. On my Long Rides I see these touring cyclists down on the South end of the county, down where traffic on the highway gets really thin. It is a long haul to the next town down there and a lot of the riders I see seem a little distressed. That stretch of road is almost desolate and gets really hot and is probably a lonely place for the solitary tourist. Myself, I'm down there for that very reason. I like the Lonely Places and also, being a local, I know what is ahead on the Road, the next stop for water or beer and the distance to the next town. I know where I am and where I am going, so to speak.
At least I like to think I do.
Good Luck, Big Bird. Good Luck, Coyote.
But today is Monday, I have Things To Do. The Big Bird has flown off, hopefully to a happier place than the dangerous side of Old Hwy One in Hawks Park. Coyote is taking his Kayak to the River. Maybe he'll catch a trout or snapper or even two or three. A nice fat fish would make a good Monday Supper. I have to get Number Nine ready for a new tenant. The coffee pot is empty and it is time to start.
Not much of a post, I know, but it is, after all, Monday. And like the Coyote says,
“ Never push a Monday too hard.” Wise Words, I like to think.
Whispering Pines Trailer Park and Bird Refuge