I was walking along the old state highway by my Mother's house. As a big, noisy semi hurled by, I strode over the shattered corpse of a small turtle that had wandered up to the shoulder of the road from the swamp down the gully. The was a the moldering body of a dead robin not to far along and in plain view. The ghost of my Father made an appearance in broad daylight.
Res Ipsa Loquitur,