Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Exotic (08/08/13)
TITLE: To Martha's Corner and Back
By Laura Hawbaker
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Well, then take one. I know it has been a hard day, but come on out. Spend a few moments with me. I am going to take you on a bike tour to Martha’s corner and back.
Don’t laugh. I realize pedaling a bike to Martha’s corner isn’t exactly that exotic cruise we talked about, but it is closer and a whole lot cheaper.
You have worked hard enough today. Shut the computer off and let’s go. I know, I know. You are tired and your knees already hurt. Martha’s corner isn’t far. It will be relaxing. I promise you won’t regret it.
Ready? To begin our tour we will turn left out of the lane. Pedal slowly and look around. Notice our sea of green? To the right is a corn field, dense and tall, tawny tasseled. The ears, covered in green husks, are still perky and growing, not yet heavy with maturity. Now we come to a field of soy beans, dark green plants mounded like hedges in perfectly straight rows. Beneath the rich foliage, unseen from the road, baby beans are growing—BB sized beans encased in fuzzy little pods. Fertile land, this. A farmer’s paradise. Breathe deeply. Smell the richness, the earthiness, the growing-ness.
Notice those white towers on the horizon? Those are grain elevators, storage bins for the anticipated harvest—the tallest structures in these parts. Now, I must admit the scenery from here to Martha’s corner is pretty much the same—corn and beans and beans and corn, so now would be a good time to look up.
Look at the clouds. See that soft pink, the pastel purple? The setting sun? Let your mind loose. Relax. Feel the cooling of the day.
Well, here we are at Martha’s corner. Yes, of course I know Martha has been dead for several years. Her house isn’t even here anymore, but I still call it Martha’s corner. It’s a good place to turn around and head back home. See, this hasn’t been so hard. Your knees don’t feel too bad do they? You’ve got to admit it’s better than sitting in that stuffy house.
OK. Now let’s ride fast. Hold your head high! Catch the breeze. Pedal hard up the rise in the road, coast down the other side. Bicycling offers a unique combination—a bit of speed without the sound of a motor. Smell! Sniff! No exhaust fumes!
Slow down. Catch your breath. Almost home. To your left you will see an abandoned windmill, beautifully stark against the darkening sky. Once a vital part of an active homestead, tonight it stands still and useless.
Pedal slowly, turn into the lane, coast to the back yard. Hush, don’t talk. Listen to the quiet twitter of birds saying goodnight. Hear the crescendo of the locust’s song, and in their sudden silence, the chirp of crickets. Summer twilight, God’s perfect dimmer switch.
Sit with me on the yard swing a moment or two longer. Let’s watch God bring out his evening decorations. A cantaloupe slice of moon and its attendant evening star. Fireflies flitting about in the lawn.
Relaxed? I thought so.
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