The Open Road

Barley, a dog, trots down the middle of a neighborhood street on a sunny day, beneath a cloudless sky.

I don’t know if it’s the “look both ways” mindset that was drilled into me during my youth, but I’m never entirely comfortable walking Barley through neighborhoods that don’t have sidewalks. It’s not as though there’s ever much traffic, nor do I walk in the middle of the road or anything, but I end up maintaining a degree of vigilance that’s tiresome to maintain for a full walk. given this, imagine my annoyance at crossing paths with more and more electric cars, which, while not quite silent, can still get way closer to me without me hearing them than combustion engines, especially if it’s rainy enough that I have my hood up. I’m all for reducing our use of fossil fuels, but would a commitment to sidewalks really be too much to ask?

That said, this only bothers me when I’m walking Barley. It’s not that I think a car is at all likely to hit me. It’s that I’m nervous about the combination of a car passing a little to close at the precise moment Barley makes an unexpected move. The further way I can hear the car coming, the more time I have to shorten her lead.