A rake, a drone and an eagle

There I was, minding my own business.

I was busy, like so many of us are these days, raking leaves into neat little piles in my yard, readying them for a time when I have space in my trash can to deposit them.

Suddenly, I heard a whirring sound nearby.

I pulled the rake handle up beside my ear and looked around. Nothing. Thinking maybe it was something loud and far away making the noise, I got back to my collection obsession.

The whirring didn't go away. In fact, it just got louder and changed pitches. Wow, I thought, it sounds a lot like one of those radio-controlled helicopters I've seen on television.

This revelation made me look skyward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something hovering behind me, and in an instant, I spun around to confront it.

"Hey, what the heck!" is all I could come up with.

The craft steadied itself in the air about 6 feet above my head. I paused for a minute to study this thing, and it didn't take me long to determine there was a camera aboard, its lens able to pan and keep a subject centered.

"Well, hello there," I said, still pretty confused. "I hope you're friendly!" Of course I didn't really expect a reply, I was more trying to calm myself than start a conversation.

"Oh, I'm friendly," a metallic voice from within this hovering whirlybird stated. "I'm a Talking Drone and I'm here to track your movements."

"Really," I countered. "And what type of movements would those be?"

"Any movements."

"OK, I'll just call you TD for short. Why would my movements be of interest?"

"Because the government is tracking everyone these days."

"Hmm... alright, as long as we have that established. Hey, while you're up there, do these sweatpants make my butt look big?

"The government is not interested in the size of your butt."

"Fair enough. Hey, TD - what exactly is it the government thinks I might do that would be of interest to them?"

"Could be anything. They'll analyze the footage and let you know if you should report to jail."

"Jail? Me, um, no - no thanks. TD. I'm just happy being John Q Taxpayer, law-abiding citizen."

"Apparently, the government thinks there's no such thing anymore."

"Yeah, apparently, TD. It's not a stretch to think the geniuses up on Capitol Hill logically came to that conclusion."

TD heard a car quickly negotiate the corner in front of my house and rose straight up about 20 feet for a look before dropping altitude to remain engaged with me.

"That sounded awfully unlawful to me, TD. Why aren't you tailing him now?"

"Because it isn't his day to be tailed. We'll watch him a week from Monday."

"Ah - I knew it must be something like that. So, TD, I'm afraid you'll be very bored for the next few hours, since all you'll see me doing is gathering these crummy leaves and pine needles to make my lawn look decent. The last I heard, there was no law against that."

"Well, sorry, but I have to stick around, just in case you decide to break the law."

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you. Say, TD, wanna have some fun?"

"Sure, as long as we don't break any laws."

"OK, well I figure I paid for a part of you with my taxpayer dollars, so I should be able to order you around for a few minutes, TD."

"What did you have in mind?"

"See that property to the south? I let my neighbor borrow a shovel last year and he swears he gave it back. It has a blue ring of tape about halfway down the handle. Be a good egg and whiz over there and see what you can see, since I think his garage door is open."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

This time one of those raised-up trucks came rumbling into the neighborhood, and again TD headed to the heavens to check it out. I turned back to my chores, only to hear the cutting-out of the whirring and a squawk from overhead.

I turn around, crane my neck skyward, only to see TD and a large bird spiraling down into my yard. Both landed in heaps on the lawn, and TD lets out a few exasperated, mechanical moans before going silent.

Closer to me, I checked out the bird. Hmm ... never seen a bald eagle this close before. And unfortunately for him, he'd already caught his last breath of air.

"Wow, TD," I blurted out. "When you mess up, you mess up bad!"

"Wha-wha, what do you mean?"

"Well, you just killed an endangered species. You know what that means - you're going to the big house."

All TD could do was just sputter and spin his propellers one last revolution.

Being the good citizen I am, I decided I'd better do the right thing and send TD back to his handlers.

As a boy, I had found a weather balloon and sent it back for research, and I deduced this should be the same process.

I put TD on the workbench, managed to sift through the mangled wreckage, looking for some type of written message.

Inside the back panel, it stated:

"Property of the U.S. Government. It is unlawful to possess this property longer than it takes to contact the proper authorities. Call 1-800-DED-DRON to report and arrange for recovery."

I called and talked to the designated G-man, and soon I was handing over TD, as well as the bald eagle, to someone who looked like they just got off the "Men In Black" set.

"Here ya go - one drone and the collateral damage: one bald eagle," I said. "Looks like your system is flawless."

"Yep," the G-man agreed, "It is - because now I am in you garage. I'm am sure there is something unlawful here. Let me take a look around."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you'll be wasting your time. Might as well take TD back and get to work on him."

The G-man did a panoramic scan and let out a deep, governmental sigh. "I guess you're right. It looks fairly benign and boring in here. Better get on the road."

"Let TD know when he is up and running again he can drop by anytime - he's good company."

"OK, will do," said Mr. G. "Oh, and, uh, thanks for the prompt phone call."

Mr. G grabbed the bird by the neck and stuffed both it and TD in the truck of the late-model Lincoln, and away they went.

I haven't heard a hum overhead since, but I'm sure that won't last. It seems that drones can be bought by private citizens these days, so sooner or later one will again invade the airspace above Case de Hitchcock.

Hopefully the next time won't be so memorable. And if a conflict arises, I have an ace in the hole: TD still owes this taxpayer a favor.

Jerry Hitchcock has a vivid imagination about what controls the skies over southern Post Falls. You can attempt to reach him at 664-8176, Ext. 2017, via email at jhitchcock@cdapress.com, or follow him on Twitter at HitchTheWriter.