I have just finished reading "The Sodbuster" and was pleased to read from Joe Murray that is now two years old. Many of you may remember me as a former writer here.

 

I miss writing for this outstanding emag and have considered, from time to time, renewing my efforts and getting back to the old grind. I love nature and the study of it. I believe deeply in the preservation of it.

 

Nearly a year ago I began a new "career" as an over-the-road truck driver. In that year I have traveled been to nearly every state east of Nebraska. I see places I would love to stop and visit. Now I make mental notes to one day stop and "smell the roses". But until then I will drive past and see the beauty of America flash by the window. I must tell you briefly about a few places I have seen, places unique and terribly beautiful; places I love to go back to time and again.

 

The drive from Asheville, North Carolina to Knoxville, Tennessee is one of my favorites. The drive takes you across the Appalachians and some of the prettiest country I have ever seen. Stop at the rest area along the way and in the spring and summer the fragrance of the air is divine.

 

Strangely, the rest areas in Illinois are worthy destinations in their own right. They are not merely restrooms, though they do serve that function. Each has a name and each is well landscaped and they contain information about local history.  One even has a small  parcel of the native habitat preserved behind it.

 

One thing I have noticed especially as I travel eastward is the increase in surface water. Small ponds and lakes are everywhere it seems. After spending a lifetime in the dry plains of eastern Colorado and  western Nebraska it seems to be everywhere. It even seeps from the rock faces of stony hills and freezes in great long icicles in winter.

 

The great tragedy, at least to me, is the homogenized nature of our country. Everywhere you go are the franchises and the incredible sameness of them all. It makes every town and city look like every other town and city. But that is to be expected I guess.

 

I cannot remember the exact town of this next incident. I suppose it doesn't matter really. It was last winter and I was trying a shortcut across part of Ohio. It was late afternoon and nearing dusk. The Ohio farm country is spectacular. Many old barns and silos still abound in that part of the country. I was impressed with the "old time" charm of the scenery.

 

At first it did not seem significant and it took a few moments to sink in but the black and yellow sign had the image of a horse drawn carriage on it. I was in Amish country. Yet, it was still a highway and I was still driving a truck. I drove on as the sun slipped behind skeletal trees and finally below the horizon. It was dark before I saw the first one, a single white light along the road.

 

I went past it before I recognized it. I glimpsed it in the rear view mirror. A single red light marked its fast disappearing silhouette. It was an Amish carriage.  I was ready for the next one and slowed the truck and opened the window. The turbocharger slowed to a gentle whistle as I drifted past and I could hear the footfalls of the horse on the gravel shoulder.  It was disconcerting to be so close to something so alien to my own experience.

 

I drove on, wanting to see more, searching for little red or white lights. Finally I came to a town. It was an ordinary town in Ohio but there on the edge of the road, in front of a supermarket stood three young women, dressed in black with black shawls and hats. Ahead of me another carriage quickly turned a corner and disappeared.

 

Eventually I left the town,  stopped at a crossroads before entering the highway. A pickup filled with three teens went by, stereo blasting.  That night something touched me. I knew it existed and I always wondered about it. Since then I have seen many more Amish. Each time  I pause for a moment, pause and think if I could live in such a way. I wonder, I really wonder.

 

But for now I sit in a truck stop just east of St Louis wondering where my next load will take me.

 

I am not Amish. I doubt I could ever give up all it takes to live that life. I have neither a horse or a carriage. I have a truck and a laptop computer. I sometimes wish to God it had been the horse I knew.