Scattershot

The other day I was riding my bicycle on the roads of South Texas and having a wonderful time. The day was perfect for riding, the sun low in the morning sky and just cool enough to still be comfortable.

I wandered very near the wildlife refuge near here. The geese were flying overhead, heralding their flight with honks and squeaks typical of their species.

The serenity of the scene was shattered by the sound of a shotgun, then another, then birds dropping from the sky.

I am not against hunting. I am not against guns. They were not shooting on the refuge. Get over it.

I stopped to watch the hunters pick up their prey and congratulate themselves, then stayed long enough to watch them take another nice double.

About this time I noticed an unusual noise. It was the sound of shot that had missed its intended target, and was now falling around me, sounding somewhat like sleet on a window.

I was so startled that I  almost considered moving, and then didn’t bother.

They were not shooting at me, and there was no way the shot had enough oomph left to hurt me. It was just weird, hearing the shot fall from the sky. Not one bit ever touched me.

And I didn’t feel one little bit like a lawyer.

(For those of you who did not get it, it was not far from here that the Vice President accidentally shot one of his lawyer friends.)