Stranger Things Outside My Door

You don't know what you're missing if you don't get outside once in a while. While enjoying this beautiful day on a short 3 1/2 mile hike, I decided to leave my music off and enjoy the sounds of nature as well as the sights. I got more than expected.

The frost was just burning off as I stepped out, trekked up the street and turned left out of our neighborhood where I was greeted by the distinct sound of hunters punctuating the morning song of chirping birds.

About a quarter mile down the road I reached the spot where I recalled how I once found the keyboard of a destroyed upright piano someone had dumped just off the road. And a broken toilet a few yards further back into the trees (more evident when the leaves have fallen). While my anger at the apathy of "some people" began to rise, I became aware of many unusual sights and sounds that exist just outside the front door.

Perhaps the most unusual sight was the 50 year old man trudging into the morning wearing black sweats, a bright orange cape and a 30 pound ruck filled with sand. He carried a 5 foot section of PVC filled with 8 pounds of sand, first holding it in this hand then in the other, sometimes carrying it like a weapon or doing overhead presses like a weightlifter does the barbell as he walked. Who knows what folks thought as they drove by--or jogged by. But who cares?

But there are other sights to take in, such as the one yard that seems to like the 4th of July so much, they still have their celebratory flags, yard lights and patriotic decorations up around the mailbox.

Then there's the one fellow who invariably has a flag flying near the border of his property (I'm guessing a Marine) who always finds a reason to post little black and white hand-made signs in his yard celebrating this or that holiday or remembering this or that occasion. Occasionally, the number of flags increases with the more patriotic celebrations and memorials.

Another fellow is working on his house. Again. Carefully enclosing his mobile home under a more permanent shell. The work is never done. Hasn't been for years. It's looking good though.

It's not uncommon in these parts to see or hear tractors, but as I made my way long the road I could not seem to find the one tractor I kept hearing. Coming up on the second mile-mark, the sound grew louder as did the crashing noises.Rounding the corner I saw him, driving through the woods alongside me at a fair clip. Odd sight, for sure--seeing this fellow on his tractor, tearing through the woods. No bucket on the front, just bouncing along through the trees as I walked along the road. Then he turned, putting his back to me, taking that crashing engine with him. Making a trail? Get lost last night? She kick him out? Only he knows.

Reminded me of the Deere I saw in the woods not far from there. An old green John Deere tractor, just parked in the woods, abandoned.

Keep your eyes open for the pine tree with the face craftily attached. Someone nailed eyes, a nose and a mouth to it in a way that's meant to be discovered. Nice!

Lots of big lots out here, big yards with plenty of nothing going on. Which may explain why this one fellow has a massive yellow backhoe parked in the middle of it.

I hate seeing trash alongside the road and on more isolated stretches, the quantity rises but in a curious way: piles of Michelob cans here, piles of Bud Light cans there, a busted fish tank . . . ?

At one house I'm usually greeted by a number of dogs who diligently protect their masters by announcing my presence with much fervor; however, the yard was silent until I was well passed, and they came out barking like it was an afterthought.

Kept my eye open for wandering pigs, such as those seen yesterday morning down the road the opposite direction.

Hey, at least they got out.