Relative Something

It’s all relative. We have moved far away from where we used to live. We now drive long distances to get to and from our jobs. At the same time, we didn’t move very far away.

We still tune in the same radio stations. I look at the weather map and see the same radar images I have been watching for years. We are not that far away.

Yesterday morning, a heating company crew arrived to install a new gas line for our clothes dryer. The owner hopped out of his truck and said, “You have venison!”

That’s a pretty strange greeting, I thought. Venison? I do? I’m pretty sure he read the confusion on my face, as he then pointed out that it was in the ditch at the end of my driveway and there were car parts all over the road. Someone had hit a deer.

It seems we are located at a popular crossing route the deer travel from a thick section of pine trees on the other side of the road. Earlier in the summer, when we first stopped by to meet the family selling this property, there was a dead deer on the near side, out in the open of the mowed grass by the road. This time the unfortunate doe ended up in the long growth on the far side.

A deer sprinted across the path my car was traveling last night on my way home. That hazard is at a new level compared to our previous location.

One thing that is drastically different for us, is the view out our windows. It is bringing us great joy. I hope the thrill never goes away. I don’t ever want to take this feature for granted.