Rural Summer

Not long ago Suzie and I spent some time driving around the southeast corner of our state.  The fields that stretched onward over the rolling countryside inspired me.  Maybe that's not quite right--It's more like it awakened a memory or something in me.  Somewhere, some time in my past, I had the pleasure of enjoying some sort of similar, expansive terrain during hot, summer months.  Maybe it was my time in Oklahoma.

Anyway, here's what I came up with:

Driving barefoot, hardly dressed,
the heated air feels good.
Open windows, blowing hair;
living summer like we should.

Dusty ribbons of empty roads
cut pathways through the land.
The air that blows throughout the car
though hot, still keeps us fanned.

Unconcerned with blowing hair
and squinting into the sun,
we're singing with the radio
to add to the driving fun.

Every time we crest a rise
we ease up on the gas,
but the lonely road goes onward
through the fields of dirt and grass.

In places where the asphalt ends
and the road turns into gravel,
a rooster tail of dust blows high
and follows as we travel.

The rising plume that follows us
shows others when we're near,
and also lets any others know
if their traffic "coast is clear".

There's also reason to drive fast:
To stay ahead of dust.
Keeping it outside the car
when driving is a must.

The scents that waft from sun-baked fields
like hay and fresh-turned earth
are the country smells of summer,
and we've cherished them since birth.

After driving on these dusty roads
we're gritty, dry, and hot,
so we head down to the clear, cool river--
it's our favorite summer spot.

Out there off the beaten path
away from prying eyes,
skinny-dipping the day away
under clear blue skies.

Rural life in summertime
is simple and carefree,
but we don't want the world to know
or crowded we will be.

Rick Williams