Hey stupid duck hunter man

I just wanted a little peace of mind this morning so I went for a walk like all the experts say I'm supposed to--you know, endorphines and all that.

I got about half an hour into my walk along Wetlands Edge Road which is along the edge of the wetlands :) and I decided to sit on a bench and look at those wetlands for awhile. But the blast of the hunter's gun nearly sent me running.

And I don't run.

At first I thought I might be wounded. But after a thorough check of my body, I was pretty sure I wasn't. Then my mind said, "What if he misses the duck in the air? Can the bullet arch its way down and hit me in, perhaps, the head or some other even more important part of my body?" I decided to move further up the walkway and sit on a bench that put a red-berried bush between the hunter and me.

Soon I heard a few sirens and I turned around to see two police cars, an ambulance and a fire truck pull up across the street behind me.

Maybe I was wounded after all. Another body check.

So much for peace of mind.

So I just sat on the bench listening to sad songs on my MP3 player and cried. (Don't even try to tell me you've never done this.) Then I got up and walked another half an hour, thinking, "Life will surely be better for me today than for the person who is headed for a ride on that stretcher, so get a grip."

In defense of the hunter, maybe he was just out for some peace of mind too. Maybe he was shooting ducks so he wouldn't shoot his wife, and for that I am grateful and willing to cut him some slack. And I'm sorry I called him stupid.

So, between the endorphine-producing hour long walk, the music (which wasn't all sad) and the release of the tears which no doubt expelled hundreds of toxins from my non-wounded body, I feel better now and I intend to make this a good day.

Hope you do to.