Friends from outside the area have noticed the abnormally intense interest that many of us (me chief among them) have in every detail of what's going on in our neighborhood. (My sister theorizes that this is why our local house tours always sell out.) One out-of-the-ordinary incident here on Friday afternoon serves as an example.
I was working at my desk, editing a series of essays on Mongolian Buddhism, when the dog starts barking her "well, this is odd" bark. I look outside, and much to my surprise there's a full-sized tour bus stopped and blocking my narrow road. And there's a Jeep driver who can't get by him. The bus driver tries maneuvering, but it appears he doesn't want to risk either the Scylla of a marsh or the Charybdis of a gravel driveway.
I went outside and chatted with the Jeep driver, who was, understandably, getting frustrated. "I have places to go!" he said. We wondered how the bus driver had ended up here: a GPS error?
After a few minutes of this standoff, the Jeep driver decided to turn around and take another road, and did so. Just then a man in a black car pulled up and signaled to the bus driver to follow him. As the bus drove by I could see that it was full of young women, many of whom waved.
I can comfortably state that I've never seen a tour bus on my road before. Huge livestock trailers, giant agricultural equipment, flatbeds carrying full-sized trees, for sure. But a tour bus? Where on earth were they headed?