The other night I was driving home from work on the interstate. It was stop-and-go, almost gridlock, and I happened to hit one of the “stops” right next to one of those police cut-throughs where you see cruisers hit their lights and cross between the northbound and southbound lanes.
I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye, and looked over to the cut-through just in time to see a beautiful doe race from one wooded section of the median, across the paved cut-through, and into the woods on the other side of the median.
I wish I’d had my camera ready.
I’ve often joked about living all my life in rural Cow Hampshire, but the truth is I’ve had very few encounters with wild animals (not counting squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and other small critters).
But one time, about 15 years ago, I was riding with a friend up around Meredith, NH. We looked up and saw something black run across the highway a ways ahead of us.
“That’s one big dog, Bill.”
“Yeah… but it’s running funny. I wonder if it’s hurt.”
Just as it left the road, it clicked in my head just what I was seeing. “It’s not running funny, Bill, that’s a bear!”
This year, I’ve seen two deer killed alongside I-93, near where I saw that doe. I hope she got away from the highway safely.