I am a stop-the-car-save-the-turtle girl. Putting my life at risk to save a little creature doesn’t cross my mind. In fact, just yesterday I stopped and rescued a turtle. Picking up a snake (with a long stick) to get it off the trail has happened on more than one occasion. I don’t like snakes, but I respect their place in the world. I don’t like spiders either, but I will catch one in a cup to put it outside, along with moths, ladybugs, and other insects. (Except roaches or mosquitos…I do have my limits.) Some would say my compassion for creatures goes a bit overboard. That may be true, but it comes naturally from being raised by nature lovers. To me the natural world has always been a place of beauty to be cherished and respected.

However, recently, when I was driving, I saw a hawk sitting in the middle of the road. I slowed to give him an opportunity to fly. He looked directly into my eyes, but he didn’t move and I hit him. I cringed and checked my rearview expecting to see a flurry of feathers. There were none. I couldn’t imagine how with the thunk I heard that I somehow missed him? Even though I was confused I was relieved. Crisis averted. So, I thought.

When I parked the car, Bill said he noticed something on the front of my car. You guessed it…it was the hawk. Broke the grill and one of his feet was sticking out. His wings, spread as if he was ready to take flight, were smashed and so was my heart. Such a beautiful creature gone in an instant.

I admit it has taken me quite a while to adjust to sharing space with wild animals. Learning to drive on 285 is a permanent part of my formative experiences. Drive the speed limit and you take your life in your hands. To survive in Atlanta traffic, you have to fly. In other words, I have a lead foot. It has taken me years in the country to slow my pace as well as a few tricks; like setting my cruise control to the speed limit; saying out loud to myself, “You are not in a race.”

But the best way to slow myself down is to remember the animals. A deer or bear can kill you (and them) if you hit it at full speed. A skunk can fill the car with horrible perfume for weeks. A possum or armadillo (the new possum around here) are the regulars who stand in the middle of the road, as if daring you to hit them. A bunny can make me cry. Same for a racoon. I once hit a mama racoon and her baby, it was horrible. I was distraught for days. Another racoon ran out in front of me just a few weeks later and jokingly William said, “He’s looking for his mom and sister!” My guilt started afresh.

I have learned that when you share space with the wild animals, you inevitably cross paths. Even when I finally learned to slow down when driving country roads, I still occasionally hit an animal who thought they could make it across in time.

Somehow, I relate to these wild creatures. They are just trying to survive when suddenly out of nowhere they are hit. Broadsided. Life hits me like that sometimes. Metaphorically speaking. Just minding my own business and a big something slams me to the ground. Fortunately, I have survived all my run-ins with the crashes life has brought my way.

Unfortunately, for the hawk I hit, it didn’t go as well. My heart is still sad about it. My only consolation is that it was quick for him. I guess the lesson in this story is take your time. Be alert to those around you. Some folks feel like roadkill. Life has worked them over. Like the hawk, they are just trying to survive in this wild world. Have some compassion and don’t be the reason they go down permanently.