Wayward Traveler

The road widens gradually, imperceptibly, and the few cars that travel it fall away, so that soon I am the only one on this road and the road is wide and soft.

The road is a thing of beauty, winding through aspen groves, rivers sliding by here and there. I fly up the road and around the sweeping curves. A large, mottled hawk is flying in his own curve.

At the same moment we notice each other, and in that moment, see that our paths are about to intersect. Our eyes lock as we realize our impending collision less than a second before it’s bound to happen.

The hawk rockets backward, impossibly, as if on a rubberband as I jerk the Vespa to the right in a quick swerve. The noise I make is something between a laugh and a gasp.

"I almost collided with a giant hawk!" I think to myself out loud - because there’s no one to tell. I tell it to the aspen trees; the hawk is probably doing the same, it had looked as surprised as I was.


Unknown said...

I don't know what happened I left a comment yesterday but it didn't show. Anyway, here it goes again.

I think it's fascinating. All I have had near collission with so far, in the suburbia of Northern New Jersey have been a couple of squirrels and the occational car that attemps to get in your way like if you didn't exist.

You have this profound encounters even with the undesirable possibility of a collission...

I wish I was there. I love the description of how the road takes shape in front of your eyes.

Anonymous said...

Perhaps the hawk was a Harry-Potter person in drag?!

alonewolf said...

Anyone see Wild Hogs? There's a delightful (because it happened to someone else) scene of a crow smacking into the face of a biker. The best I've been able to muster is to have a song bird fly into my leg from the side. I swear it was attacking me.