I sit there and stare out over the cornfield, reduced by the harvest to stubble, golden in the late afternoon sun. I imagine a giant hand reaching down and brushing across the earth; it would feel like a 2-day-old beard I suppose. A large flock of geese arrives, looking for overnight shelter and rest on its way to a warmer winter home. Gliding close to the ground, one by one they flare and half land, half crash to the earth. Comical to watch but even this, it seems, is done in formation driven by instincts we can’t possibly understand.
Near the road is a single corn stalk that was somehow missed by the harvester. A survivor, but winter is on its way so the end was not avoided, only delayed. I wonder if being the last person standing after an apocalypse would be a good thing, or a bad thing. I don’t know. And I don’t particularly want to find out.
Then my thoughts are interrupted by the raising of the barrier as the end of the train finally passes. Back to the real world, I grab a handful of throttle and ride on, the corn field once again relegated to simply scenery.
Nice post, like a snapshot captured in words.
ReplyDelete-Buddha
Thanks Buddha.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it pays to pause and appreciate the scenery, nice post.
ReplyDeleteNice post.I sometimes forget to enjoy the scenery when I am out and about,Must remember to do this more often!
ReplyDeleteGeorge and Scotch Broth -
ReplyDeleteUsually we just drive by, but every so often circumstances give you the opportunity to look around and actually see what's out there. At times like those I understand why my wife, although she has her own license and bike, actually prefers to ride pillion where she can enjoy the scenery and not have to focus so much on the road.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting.
Very poetic. It inspired me to go on a quest to find my own stubbly corn field... I found other frosty reminders of winter instead.
ReplyDeleteDear Canajun:
ReplyDeleteThe last stalk of corn... The last act of defiance... The last middle finger standing up in the center of the field.
Perspective: as personal as a toothbrush.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Sonja - Thanks for the comment. Saw the photos of your ride on your blog earlier. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteJack - Never thought of it as "the last middle finger", but that's a pretty good metaphor as well. Thanks for stopping by and commenting.
Looking good, very thoughtful. It was fun to read and think about. I miss being out on the bike all the time, and this post explains why.
ReplyDeleteGreat posts, well written, and nice pics
ReplyDeleteBrady, Axel - Thanks for stopping by and commenting. It would be nice to get even more saddle time but, alas, the weather up here just isn't suitable. :(
ReplyDeleteVery nice Canajun, I can picture you sitting there at the noisy crossing, your bike vibrating as the train rumbles by giving you some time for contemplation, nothing to do but wait and take in your surroundings - very cool.
ReplyDelete