A peaceful country road winds its way through the quiet fields and pastures just south of the Mason-Dixon Line here in Maryland. This lazy pathway is not encumbered with bumper-to-bumper traffic, the honking of horns or the sounds of marching armies. In fact, the only real commotion here is caused by a few red-winged blackbirds flitting about; squabbling over whatever piece of real estate it is that they’re hell-bent on plundering next. The occasional tractor chugs by and, every so often, a car. The Doppler Effect seems very noticeable here or so I’ve noticed. I was aimlessly driving my own car down this road when I just had to stop, get out, and listen to the view.
imprints of wind
on a cloud
The scent of hay, corn, fresh-tilled earth and cow manure mingle together and saturate the warm summer air. It’s a country thing. As you might guess, there’s a lot that goes into concocting the average bucolic day but I’m just a tourist passing by. What do I know?
A grasshopper jumps out of the tall grass beside the road and lands at my feet. I’m careful not to step on it as I get back into the car and start the engine. The noise shocks the air and the grasshopper wings away. I pull back onto the road, lost in the sound of the waves I’m making, semi-oblivious to my own existence and overcome with a sudden urge to turn on the radio and listen to some country music.
First Publication: Contemporary Haibun Online, April, 2018