I’ve just turned right at that corner that is so sharp that a right turn is literally straight on. There’s a tractor up ahead.
Not particularly noteworthy, I live in the country, and it’s harvest time. I love everything about living in the country including tractors: graceful giants, with almost-always friendly drivers, happy to wave back when they pass my son in the street.
This tractor has a fetching swivel-orange light. Like a siren. But orange. I slow down, but keep coming.
The tractor flicks its lights to full beam and back. Oh.
I slow down further.
The tractor flashes its lights brightly, strongly. I stop the car at the side of the road.
The tractor passes. It’s not a particularly wide load.
What was that all about?
Driving on, I realise. And switch my own headlights off full beam.