As I am pulling out of my driveway, I notice a seagull. First it lands on the telephone pole, then hops to a low wire, and finally it plops down on the road in front of my car, scuttling along the sidewalk like it's going to the nearby train station. This is all weird because the storms are not coming from the east and because I live about eighteen miles inland.
Not to be outdone, a small hawk swoops low, possibly ten feet above my car. The hawk's nest is across the street in the industrial park along the train tracks, so its presence is not unexpected. However, its proximity to humans and my busy street is unusual.
I look at the seagull hopping around and the hawk flying around and think to myself, "What the holy Hell is this? Goddamned Wild Kingdom?" Out loud and to no one in particular, since I am alone in my car with the air conditioner blasting and all the windows closed, I say, "I'm half-expecting Marlin Perkins to poke his head from around the corner."
Two big storms roll over while I'm inside the store, and I sneak home before more storms roll through. I check the radar status on my cell phone just to check out the probability of opening windows tonight (slim), and I notice something bizarre.
The storm blips on the local radar look like animals. There's a yellow snake with one red eye slithering over Danvers and heading toward Beverly. There's a fat guinea pig with a red spotted abdomen over Burlington. Best of all, though, King Kong is descending on Lowell. Expand the shot a touch and the whole green storm area looks like a giant sea turtle or a condor in flight, depending on your preference.
