Sometimes you're the bug

On the way home night before last, in the dark, on Highway 14 near the Columbia River, I hit a moth.

A moth.

This is the winter that started early, dumped absurd amounts of snow all over us during the Christmas holidays, never quite goes away, and keeps dropping below freezing over and over (would someone please tell the weather angel that this is the temperate zone?) ... and now I can believe that spring just might come again after all. This week I hit a big, fat, juicy moth with my windshield.

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