3/21/10

Never seem to get far enough/ Staying in between the lines

That line sums up pretty well why I need to go away. Sometimes I feel like a cud-chewing cow, stuck in the same old field, domesticated, tamed. Then, I get in my car, and I go. This time I took Aaron with me. The song that my title came from is "Windfall" by Son Volt. It's my theme song for this latest adventure. Here are the lyrics and a video of the song.

Now and then it keeps you running
It never seems to die
The trail's spent with fear
Not enough living on the outside

Never seem to get far enough
Staying in between the lines
Hold on to what you can
Waiting for the end
Not knowing when

May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away
Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel,
May the wind take your troubles away

Trying to make it far enough, to the next time zone
Few and far between past the midnight hour
Never feel alone, you're really not alone...

Switching it over to AM
Searching for a truer sound
Can't recall the call letters
Steel guitar and settle down
Catching an all-night station somewhere in Louisiana
It sounds like 1963, but for now it sounds like heaven

May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away
Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel,
May the wind take your troubles away



It's hard to sum up an adventure with a description of what you did because it's more about how you felt. Here's our adventure in poetry (quoth Anne). I felt free, happy, windblown, and wild. I felt like all the world stretched out in front of me, and I could reach it all by driving north on GA 9. I wasn't a mom, wasn't a student, wasn't a teacher, wasn't anyone's wife or daughter or friend. I was a world traveler bound for unknown lands. The clock ran backwards, and I was 17. I was all spring on the inside.

Here's the story in prose: Aaron and I put the top down on the Jeep, packed a suitcase, and headed north on the small roads for Greenville. It was warm and sunny, and Aaron was sunburned before we were out of Atlanta. :) The back roads were full of interesting things to look at -- farms, junk stores, houses, and Forsythia everywhere, all bloomed out yellow. We stopped in Clemson at the Botanical Gardens, where we walked for an hour or so. It was covered over with Daffodils ("a host of golden daffodils . . . tossing their heads in sprightly dance") and Camellias (I am capitalizing the important things like some people capitalize god).

We got to Greenville after dark and went straight to Reedy River Park downtown. We walked among the crowds on the upper paths, crossed the suspended, cantilevered bridge, and saw people spelling out Google with glow sticks. Then we walked down to the lower paths where it is dark and deserted. We sat on a swing and then on a bench and looked out over the waterfall and the rocks. We felt the warm night air on our arms, really for the first time this year. The bridge was lighted up all blue.

We spent the night on the north side of Greenville so that we could visit Cowpens Battlefield Park in the morning. It was a cloudy, rainy looking day, so when we got to the battlefield, we went hiking right away. After about a mile and a half, it started to rain, so we went back to the car and got lunch nearby. After lunch, we drove the loop around the battlefield to look at where General Morgan routed that prissy friend of the Prince of Wales, Tarleton. The battle was a neat-o strategic plan, so I suggest you look it up. Seriously, I am no Revolutionary War buff, but it was cool. Apparently, if Tarleton hadn't lost so badly here, Cornwallis might never have surrendered at Yorktown. We also visited a little (but really well done) museum about the battle.

We drove home through Athens to see what the University of Georgia looks like. Nothing impressive, I am afraid. Just a lot of mismatched buildings. If you want to see a pretty campus, I suggest Berry or Sewanee. Aaron suggests Stanford.

I have two major complaints about South Carolina, since I know you are all very interested in my rants and opinions. First, if you name a gas station after the Sphinx and have a picture of said Sphinx on your gas pumps, you should spell Sphinx correctly. All through SC, there are gas stations called "Spinx." A part of me died every time I saw one. Second, why do people in South Carolina plant so many Bradford pear trees? They look like Lego trees, all shaped perfectly, as if they never had a moment's free growth in the free air in their whole sad tree lives. They look so domesticated, so pitiful, like a tiger at the zoo pacing up and down his cage for the rest of his sad Lego life. There's nothing wild or spontaneous or rebellious about those preppy, Gap-shopping, conformist trees. I wish lightening would strike every one and knock their branches all askew. Bradford pears have no business being in my adventures.

Now we are home, and I feel that I can put the mantle of mom, student, teacher, daughter, wife, friend, and responsible creature back on, having stretched my back a little and felt the wind. I have reassured myself once again that I will never be a cud-chewing cow or a Bradford pear tree.
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