Monday, June 13, 2011

Feast day

It was one of those feasts, you know, not the ones you plan like a family reunion months in advance, right down to the potato salad and where the kids will dry off after the waterfight, but the spontaneous kind, when a truckful of crab tips over on the highway tossing its slippery load across the baking asphalt, so you call the relatives in from all around to drag the salty carcasses to a safe spot where you can crack their shells and stuff yourselves silly with the smoky meat.

It was one of those feasts, and we were all happily pecking away, us, the kids, the grandkids, when Joe there, he got a little too near the centre of the road in pursuit of a big old fella whop was dragging himself south as fast as he could on his gangly claws, and a truck came spinning by just a bit too close for Joe's comfort.

So Joe, off he goes with a long string of expletives, wings flapping, jabbing his beak in the direction of the offending truck as it disappeared up the highway, his taste for seafood soured in the eruption of road rage.

The rest of us, we just covered the little ones' ears and carried on as nicely as we could, looking away serenely, as if nothing could ever sully this perfectly wonderful day.