road and cornfields on

The fields are full. The corn is tall and as I drive through them, it’s like navigating a labyrinth. Walls where there were none weeks ago, soon to be gone again after you get used to them.

Queen Anne's lace at the edge of the field on

Through the open window, it smells different. There’s a sweet rot smell giving over to patches of dirty dank mildew. The sound of crickets and cicadas and happy birdsong fade in and out.

cornfield and tree on

I swoon and graze my vision on the Queen Anne’s lace and chicory lining the roadsides, an occasional late day lily and Black Eyed Susan joining the ungathered bouquet. I see the orange spotted wings of wily cow birds darting in and out of the flowers feasting on grasshoppers and buzzies.

Inside the car barreling along the tar and chip side-roads, we switch the radio station back and forth and wait for the little girl to fall asleep. The rhythm of the life staying somewhat the same despite the Summer’s onslaught of Busy. The smell of ketchup fills the cab of the truck and I dream of a quieter life in the middle of The Land of Pleasant Living.

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And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.


    • You have to get out every once and a while Dawn so it might as well be in a virtual ride through my cornfields with me. Be warned, my truck has no muffler anymore. Thanks!

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