40 minutes of Asphalt
Where I live now is a 40ish minute drive from my hometown. That same hometown is where I worked and saw family. I've driven that 40 minute drive plenty of times. It is a straight drive, once you get on that road you follow it until you hit town. So, there isn't a lot of turning, or even stopping. During that drive I would either listen to music or let my thoughts wander. I wasn't really a podcast guy then. One time during summer, a thought occurred as I was driving down this familiar road and staring at the rolling farmland: "I have never set foot in that field." I thought about it. The only times I had stopped was because of emergencies like a car accident. It was very strange to me that for all those drives I had never stopped to walk across that bright green field. Every single time I had driven down this 40 minute long road I never stopped. I had paid attention to the fields, trees, farms, houses, but only while driving. Everything does look and feel different when you are walking or standing, compared to driving. Things seem bigger, slower, and more detailed.
So the next time I drove, I paid extra attention to what surrounded me. One thing that struck me, was a average lonely-looking tree in the distance on a plot of farmland. Where it was was an awkward place. It was far from the road, in a clearing. In my years of driving that road, I had never seen anyone in those fields. Maybe I just happen to miss them, maybe I wasn't paying attention, but maybe not. That single tree probably hasn't been visited by a human in forever. It broke my heart a bit. I wanted to stop and walk to it. Visit it. Lie down underneath it. But no, I had places to be. I was stuck on this road, this paved island. It is like a no man's land. Only cars may traverse it's split-grey terrain. Anything else gets thrown to the side in a bloody pulp. A grotesque sideshow as other cars drive by. Why would I waste my time?.... But I'm not. It's my time to waste. If I am doing something I want to do, is it wasting?
Something else that struck me was a conversation I had with a good friend of mine. He did a similar 40 minute drive for work on the same road, though the other way. He had told me that he would take different roads to get back to his place on his way home from work. He would 'get lost' on his way back. Find all the different ways to get lost and find his way back. He said it was a fun time. Most of the time it'd take him a maximum of 30 extra mins to get home. But, he isn't the busy kinda guy. It sounded beautiful to me. Instead of being stuck to trace the same lines over and over again, one can take the paths less traveled. I thought about that extensively. I thought about it every time I drove that 40 minute road. It actually would sicken me to drive that straight path. To look at all the alternate paths I could've taken. I would wonder what new houses, farms, road names, and people I could see.
I imagine walking through rolling meadows, into long forgotten forests, even lying down for a nap not unlike Rip Van Wrinkle. But the land's private. What does that mean? How does one own a chunk of Earth? It is very strangle to me. I understand why, people would probably abuse property. But I'd like to wander through the hillsides until I grow tired. Until my feet tell me "that's it for today. We'll try again tomorrow."
Back to the sad lonely tree all alone.