I was driving to work this morning when it hit me what a different experience my drive to my little office out in the country is from the commute I used to make in northern Virginia.
In Virginia there were housing developments and privacy fences as far as the eye could see. In Ohio, there are corn and soybean fields spread for miles along side the roads I take to work.
In Virginia I could mark the passing of time by the progress made on the houses springing up on every side. Well, at least until the housing crisis hit. That kind of put a damper on the construction trade. In Ohio, I take note that the corn seems a foot taller on Monday morning than it did on Thursday afternoon. When I remarked to one old farmer how fast the corn seemed to grow he told me that if you stood outside in the fields at night you could actually hear the corn popping as it grew. I’m dying to see if he is right.
In Virginia there were certain places on my commute where I had to look out for recent immigrants to this country trying to cross the road in front of me. Evidently there are many places in the world where crosswalks are seen as mere suggestions rather than a rule to be followed in order to keep you from being run down by a large vehicle going 50 miles an hour. In Ohio, about the only thing I’ve had run out in front of me lately was what at first glance I thought was a large dog, but turned out to be a really large coyote.
On my way to work these days I often get the one finger salute from people I pass on the long straight roads I take. For those of you unfamiliar with this greeting, imagine your hand grasping the top of the steering wheel. When you pass someone, you merely raise your index finger off the wheel and extend it fully. It’s a shortcut to a wave. A way to say “howdy”. In Virginia, I often got a single digit greeting of an entirely different type. I’ll assume no explanation needed?
I’ll take my country commute over my city drive any day of the week.