May is the time where the trees start shooting. Well here in the cold Far Northland, everything is a month behind the rest of the country. Even in this particularly cold Spring, the lime green leaves are beginning to emerge.
Driving the bus along the moorland roads is a pleasure. There is plenty to look at, plenty to daydream about.......
Holy Cow! What was that great big brown blob that shot in front of my windscreen. Only a deer. I should have been more alert as this is the time where they seem to come out of hibernation, looking for food.
They have the road sense of a newly qualified driver. As Bert, another driver found out last week. He was daydreaming too, about the lovely Spring morning, when two brown blobs appeared in front of his bus. He hit one of them. In the bottom. The deer was catapulted into the air and flew at speed across the wall and disappeared down a steep wooded bank.
"Oh my God" Bert howled. "I've killed it." He howled even more when he saw the damage to the front of his bus. An extended stay at the panel beaters was needed to unwind the mangled metal.
He was nervous at going to look for the obviously dead deer, in case someone thought he was poaching it. The law clearly states that if you hit an animal such as a deer or pheasant, you are breaking the law if you pick it up. Anyone following can quite happily pick up any item of road kill without fear of invoking trespassing and other laws.
He slowly looked over the wall, fearing the worst. But there was nothing there. he went back to the bus, drove off and dreamt of a hobbling deer with no more than a bruised bottom.
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