I was driving home from the tennis-meet-that-never-happened yesterday on a super crowded, really busy 4 lane road. I sat there at the opposing school for a half hour, wondering to myself where the team was, when it finally dawned on me that it was probably cancelled. Nothing like driving all the way to another school in afternoon traffic for nothing. Yeah, fun times.
Anywho, I was heading home when the truck in front of me, piled high with pallets swerves sharply. I slow down and swerve with him, not being able to see what he's dodging. It's pot-hole country where I live, so swerving is a way of life after this long winter, and I'm all about saving my tires and suspension.
I see movement out to the right into the other lane, when I realize it was a load of ducklings crossing this very busy street. Next to me is a semi who is barreling and he doesn't have time or the space to swerve. Needless to say, I witnessed a bunch of ducklings getting mowed over. Their little fluffy bodies flipping into the air, a couple getting squished.
Man, I was sad. That was just terrible to witness and there was absolutely nothing any of us could have done. Mother Duck was an idiot for trying to cross 4 lanes of hauling traffic. She pretty much signed the dotted line of the death certificate for her babies. Although I think there were some that made it, the 2 or 3 that were squished really haunted me.
So, I'm driving home, with my hand still covering my mouth in horror and I wanted to cry. It was just so darned sad to see a little life squished like a pancake. And I start to wonder--wonder why on earth God would create a little life only to be smushed.
I was trying hard not to philosophical about the whole Squishing Incident, but I found it hard not to. I mean, why are people and animals brought here to only be extinguished a short time later. What is to be gained from that? Why are some here only to suffer and then leave? It just seems so unfair. And then I thought of risk.
Do you take risks? I don't usually do. Joe does not. My kids are not risk takers. We are a family of Chicken Littles, hunkering down and staying safe. I had enough drama in my young life when my dad suddenly died when I was 7, so I know of the dangers that lurk out there. I prefer to keep things in order, prepare for the worst, and not stick my neck out there to have it possibly chopped off.
Duck Mom--now that was one crazy risk taker. She packed up the kiddies and marched them straight into danger. That creek or puddle across 4 freakin' lines of traffic sure must have been some attraction or girlfriend was just plain nuts. She was OctoMom kinda crazy--putting herself into a situation that was not good for anyone--kids or mom.
I wonder if Duck Mom went back to see Squishy and Mushy? Did she know they were gone? Did she care? I would think Duck Mom does a constant count of her young, kinda like a field trip Mom counting her group members. I know that ducks have so many young because the numbers dictate that few will actually survive to adulthood, but c'mon, who wouldn't be sad at the thought of her young as road pizzas?
When I picked up Col later, I was telling him my dramatic story. And as I was, I spied a dead Mallard in the center lane. Geesh, what's with the ducks???! I know it's been raining a lot, but why are they all walking into the busy streets yesterday? Like there aren't enough puddles and filled-to-the-brim creeks around on their side of the street? Why are they all suddenly taking the risk--car vs duck? Sheesh. It's like they have all gone stupid.
Sigh. Like I don't have enough to worry about lately with the Whine Flu and the poison water --now I have to worry about ducks.