A deer not yet realizing it's dead pirouettes down the remaining length of my flinching pickup Tires scribble outside the lines With all my might I will the truck to turn like league bowlers use body English to curve their bowling balls after the release but travel a physics-determined path as a passenger along for the ride to its end while accusing an unlikely omniscient being You have got to be kidding me After the gravel lands After the silence and me still breathing After the curious stop to see - kind enough to help as they understandably revel in their luck That cop who has seen it all before Asks me questions I can understand and like some guardian angel guides me out of my paralysis and actually says Just doing my job The tow truck driver thinks city folk need to keep their eyes open and pay more attention but I think tow truck drivers own and operate deer farms...
a photographer's take on ART, SCIENCE & THEOLOGY in the Pacific Northwest