When do we start talking about weather, or even notching the weather? As a teenager I know that I never paid the weather one moment of thoughts, except for rainy days when I would really want to skip school to stay home and read books in bed. I have numerous memories of going out on a winter’s evening wearing a feeling light and flimsy blouse or dress. No matter that my teeth might chatter, my skin turn blue and pneumonia would set in by morning, if I had a new outfit without sleeves, and meant for 30C days, and it was 9C outside, I was going to wear it – I had to dress to suit the me I was that night -young and sexy, of course!
I looked in my car’s rear view mirror to see a 1970s model Ford Falcon painted a faded orange colour following me. Inside the orange car was a man, well someone had to drive it, at least for the moment! The man was wearing a faded orange safety vest. All I could think of for the rest of the journey, much of which the orange safety man in his orange vehicle followed me was, why?Does he suffer an anxiety issue, so won’t leave home without all safety elements intact? Has he been involved in one car accident too many (is there ever a suitable number of car accidents to suffer though?) and now wants to warn everyone that he is coming? Does his wife not want surprise returns to home and so makes him wear orange, drive orange? Is he colour blind and thinks he is wearing green? Important need to knows.
The birds around The Village are getting traffic savvy. I noticed a car approaching a bird pecking in the middle of the road, and when the bird failed to fly away as the car neared I expected a splatter of bird body and feathers to ensure. Nearing the last moment of escape the bird merely moved to the centre road line of the two lane road.
It stepped back to eat its minuscule road meal as I approached. I slowed expecting it to make flight this time, but it merely did the same, stepping to stand on the centre road line as I drew level. Obviously it has learnt it is just a step to the right!
Don’t you think it is a worry though, that our birds have more street smarts than some of our children who have to be escorted across the road after school even as teenagers?
I find my daily road trip a fountain of interest some days. On my way to a doctor’s appointment, I changed lanes on the highway and fell behind a hearse with the words “legend funerals” emblazoned across the back of the car. Legend funerals, doesn’t it just make your imagination race? Visions of Rocky type music blaring as your casket is jettisoned from the rear of the church, paparazzi flashing as your remains roll by. Then I started to wonder about the language itself. Was it really funerals for legends, or was it legendary funerals? Either way I tried not to think of it as an omen as I drove into the car park at my doctor’s office – I am a legend and oh so legendary after all!