Riding Home through Snowy Fields
We were driving home last night for a funeral, which is not the best reason for an extra trip but it was late and the traffic wasn't bad and we were able to chat about things without getting frustrated with bad roads. We turned right off the bypass onto CR 26. The sky was dark but the snow glistened, which sounds cheesy but it was! And we rode in quiet for a few stop signs. I looked over at the farm, which as always been there for as long as I can remember. All by itself it sat against the sky and the snow and the barn was tall and the stilo had a brightly lit star. Down below a trailer and another barn. And behind all of it a wide open cornfield.
I couldn't count the many times I road down these roads as a teenager playing Pearl Jam, maybe even smoking a cigarette once or twice. I'd fly down the road with no acknowledgement of the beauty of simplicity around me. I treated it as plain, boring, and lifeless. But as a child I did see it and I let go of it over the years. When I was younger my friend lived on a farm. As I looked out last night I could see images of us running through the snow in the cornfields behind her house, camping in the tent her mom would set up next to the barn, and riding snow mobiles that my mother would surely not approve of. I could hear laughing and then I could see myself, ten years old lying in a field of greens behind my house staring up at the sky and thinking about how big it is and how much space there is for me in the world.
I get these feelings every once in a while, I admit. Feelings of appreciation for open space and quietness of the country.
Then we went to I-Hop.
I couldn't count the many times I road down these roads as a teenager playing Pearl Jam, maybe even smoking a cigarette once or twice. I'd fly down the road with no acknowledgement of the beauty of simplicity around me. I treated it as plain, boring, and lifeless. But as a child I did see it and I let go of it over the years. When I was younger my friend lived on a farm. As I looked out last night I could see images of us running through the snow in the cornfields behind her house, camping in the tent her mom would set up next to the barn, and riding snow mobiles that my mother would surely not approve of. I could hear laughing and then I could see myself, ten years old lying in a field of greens behind my house staring up at the sky and thinking about how big it is and how much space there is for me in the world.
I get these feelings every once in a while, I admit. Feelings of appreciation for open space and quietness of the country.
Then we went to I-Hop.
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