Knowing something that is about to happen can be sort of freaky. But what if you did this all the time? Like when Melvin drove that old truck of his out across the pasture. He didn’t think anything of it. He’d done it time and time again to pick up the hay in the field. On this day, he had to hurry. A storm was brewing, the winds were picking up fast. Last thing he wanted was the hay to get wet.
A crack of thunder sounded off in the distance. He was sure he had enough time. Three more rows of bales and he’d be done. Just when he tossed the last one in the back, another crack sounded. This time it was much closer.
The frogs were out. An odd night for them to litter the field. They squished under the tires of the truck while he drove down the rutted dirt road. A flash of light lit up the dark sky. Black clouds billowed overhead. Melvin had that feeling again. Like he’d been here, done this. He slammed on the breaks for no apparent reason, or so he thought.
Twenty feet in front of him, a bolt of lightning struck a tree, snapping it in two. Had he not stopped when he did, he and his ugly red dented truck would have been flatter than a junk that’s been in a car crusher. He may have lost a day in his life by knowing his future, but did he actually lose a life? Instead, he merely exchanged one day for another.
By the way, the hay did get wet. But that story is for another day.
This photo was taken last summer by my DH. He has gotten pretty handy with the camera. It is the closest we have to the rule of thirds, and is the one and only monarch butterfly we saw that year. For some reason they have become scarce in New Hampshire over the past couple of years. He had to take the picture to prove that we actually saw one.