Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Wild Chickens

Even when I'm driving by myself (when making my daily roadkill sweep) I'm never alone. Between 4-6 AM it's typically just me - occasionally a blue moon early commuter - and the indigenous wildlife slowly retreating back into the safety of deeper woods as the day slowly shifts in the favor of humans.

The crows normally are just waking up and filling every free space on telephone lines, rabbits and hares begin pulling back further into woodlands, foxes candidly trot through open, sun-glazed meadows, wood pigeons suicidally gather at the side of the road to drink from miniature pools of water, deer haphazardly cross the street knowing they still have another hour (or so) before traffic becomes fatally dangerous and pheasants, the wild chickens of the countryside, flagrantly loiter in confused clusters on empty country lanes looking like perpetually lost toddlers in Wal-Mart.

I see this shit every fucking morning; it never gets old, and my gratefulness for living here never fucking diminishes.