By Jim Hagarty
I left the windows down in my car last night and it rained sometime before dawn.
So I had to get a blanket to put on the seat and the windshield was all fogged over so I wound up the windows, turned the heat onto blast and headed out at 6 a.m. for a coffee.
Already a little grumpy, my mood took a further nosedive when I realized I was sharing the cabin of my car with a flying object of some description which began buzzing my bare legs and the back of my neck as I putted on down the main street.
I finally got a semi look at the intruder. It appeared to be a moth if a moth can be almost the size of a small hawk. Yet it was too small to be a bat.
Oh my God!
I have a car that is even too old for the classic car shows so I had to reach all the way over and manually wind down the passenger side window, then the driver’s side, all while piloting my bucket of bolts to Coffee Land. The moth took the opportunity to escape the crazy man it had so recently met.
I am not a moth psychologist – they are known in the business as mothologists – but something tells me my visitor was happy to be free.
