The morning rain has mostly ended as I go out the door to begin this Thanksgiving Day run. Mostly. And you all know about my disdain for cold rain. Any other Thanksgiving, I would either be doing some kind of Turkey Trot race, or just running with friends. Alas. I'm running alone these (pandemic) days.
The rain is light; mostly just a mist. Even that eventually ends. There's some wind, but none of this bothers me too much because it's relatively warm for this time of year. I'm running the semi-rural roads that make up this 11-mile route. It's a route I haven't done in a while. There's hardly any traffic this early on Turkey Day, and I appreciate the peace and quiet.
It's still dark as I encounter a fairly large four-legged creature in the middle of the road. Without my headlamp, I can't make out whether it's a dog or a coyote. It quietly moves off to the side of the road as I (carefully) go by. I look back to see if it's following me. It isn't. Whew.
Now it's getting light, and I hear a few gunshots. They're in the back of a house that's off the road a bit. I am shaken just a little as I wonder what they're shooting at. Hopefully not me! I do have my bright jacket on so that either makes me a good target, or perhaps something to avoid aiming at. A half-mile later, I hear more gunshots, and they sound much closer this time. Now I'm getting paranoid. I am shaken some more, and this time I stop to look around, but no one is to be seen.
It's probably hunting season. Thankfully (it is the season), this turkey survived.
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