An Endless Stream of Bison

I wish they lived on my street. Can you imagine? A herd of bison nibbling their way through inner Southeast Portland. Scratching their heads and their asses on subarus and street signs. Pruning the rose gardens down to nubby sticks. I wouldn't mind being the bison lady. I bet the crows would like them. Big bushy beast full of bugs.

Where are they going to go when the lake dries up? When the plains turn to desert and the water disappears? Hit the road? Cruise the interstate and stop for sodas and salty snacks at Love's Travel Center?

I worry about people, sure. But people at least have some idea of what's coming. These guys? They only know right now. All they can do is their best or die trying.

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