I
have no idea why. So don’t ask me.
I
love country roads; especially if there is no one else on them. Maybe it is the
solitude.
Solitude
may have been my downfall. I was supposed to be in charge of a bunch of people.
It was like the complaint department in a dry-goods store - - - but one hundred
times that. It was a new enterprise in the Industrial Revolution.
So
every time I had a chance at solitude - - - I took it. And they caught me. So
through MUTUAL AGREEMENT, I departed.
They
sent me to one of those head-measurers before I left the organization; “Phrenologyist”
I think they called him.
He told me I should be farming in dirt instead of working in industry; "Dichotomies of the Mind" was what he called my condition.
But still - - - I loved solitude and country roads.
But still - - - I loved solitude and country roads.
Such
as this one that lead to nowhere.
Or
the following one which mimed my turbulent thoughts - - - without resolution.
Or
sometimes a decision was necessary; in which case I would sit by the side of
the road until an answer came to me.
And
then every once in a while an entrance to a farmstead would yield someone to
talk to - - - even if it was a horse or a cow.
Anyhow
- - - they seemed to understand me better.
So
there - - - I have confessed. But still there remains - - - the Stillwater road.
©W.
Tomosky♠
Oh, lovely post, Wally! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you Virginia. I have spent a lot of time on an old abandoned farm off Stillwater Road. Many times I have just sat on an old log and wondered what type of life the first settler in that newly opened "Indian Territory" must have had. Not an easy one I am sure. Especially during his second year there, when he may have been low on seed for next spring's planting. That was the year (1815) without a summer. It snowed or frosted every month that year. I wonder how many new settlers were close to starving in 1816?
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