The Invasion

I feel like Haley Joel Osmond—except instead of dead people, I see chipmunks everywhere.
I brake for animals, all animals, including rodents. I’ve nearly driven off the road trying to avoid hitting a field mouse. So, in the fall, driving behind me is like playing a slightly more dangerous version of “Red Light, Green Light,” since, approximately every 1500 feet or so, a wind-blown leaf skitters across the road, and I brake, thinking it’s a chipmunk.
These leaves are crafty, though. They want me to think they’re chipmunks. They dart in zigzag patterns. They crawl slowly forward, then dash out in front of my tires, indecisive as any squirrel. I even caught a leaf hopping the other day.
So, if you get behind a red Jeep Cherokee Sport this fall, better double the car-length buffer rule. I brake for foliage.