Morning Missiles

They come in all sizes, shapes and colors. The morning missiles. They are the commuters bane of every day traffic. You can't avoid them and the only way not to run into them is to have cold weather begin.

For me, it usually begins during the ritual of washing my windshield the evening before my next trip through the   gauntlet of attacking arthropods. I've found the best cleaning method for my visually impairing windscreen is some Windex and newspaper. My wife told me about using newspaper to clean off those stubborn spots of special insect sauce.  It gives my truck glass a subtle invisibility but still keeps me safe from the bombarding hoards of insects that want to greet me on a daily basis. With my windshield clean and ready to go, all I have to do is wait for morning to come.

What will the morning drive hold for me as I make my way down the road, waiting for that initial impact to start the day? Driving a few miles, I notice the windshield is still clean and the insect population has diminished but that is only for the time being. Then, without notice, the first of many kamikaze strikes hit. A June bug has hit the passenger side of the windshield with the force of a small rock being thrown at you. I think to myself...that's fine, I can still see through this side of the glass. I then enter enemy territory by taking the county road through the country side. It's here where the most dedicated of the winged creatures lay in wait for their number to be called. As I drive deeper into the foreboding woodland, they become more distinct, my headlights illuminate the foreground, I see the erratic behavior of the flying lot. All of them wanting a piece of my glass. As I knew it would, it begins. In the distance I see them, huddling together like football players before the first play of the game. They break and send themselves out in erratic flight. I watch as some of them dive and turn, making aim for their final destination. Others make the beeline straight to me. it's all for one cause...to mess up my windshield. With my headlights drawing them closer I can almost hear them as they say to one another, go into the light. You can't dodge them or second guess which way they my come at you. Some just appear and some you can watch as they come at you from a distance, all of them wanting to create some modern art masterpiece on your front glass. As I reach my stop for the morning, I scan the windshield, looking over what's been left behind by the bombardment of bodies and I think to myself...insecticide, what a way to go!