* * CORNPONE COUNTY"
-
Cornpone County I appreciated the uniqueness and diversity of Cornpone County only after getting away from it. Until then, my vision was obscured by a mirage of warehouses, churches, schools, stores, woodlands, farm land, by what felt like unrelenting sameness. But in a world where no place I've been seemed quite real, this is as real a place as any. Maybe more so, for being so familiar. Having avidly studied the substance and terrain of other places, gorging my eyes on what appeared new, I detect a nebulous beauty in this flat hot land with the roads stretched out like shimmering ribbons of silver in the wavering heat, then in the cold noble barrenness of winter when it's not as green, and the sudden mad opulence of spring when a feast of colors jumps out at you. There's something to be appreciated in mossy, muddy swamps and quaint old cemeteries. There's an ethereal nature to a certain beautiful garden on the grounds of a very old private school where we sat on a old bridge savoring the scene. As for my not overwhelmingly extensive travels (not compared to some people's), it's strange what scenes the memory selects to replay over and over, a tape that never wears out. I remember being crudely jeered at by two young macho jocks as I held up a thirsty little black kid to reach the water fountain in a bus station in South Carolina. I don't think that would happen here, in Cornpone County, where three--actually four or five or more--races co-exist in, if not complete harmony, peace and love, not absolute all-out warfare. I recall a tall somberly-clad Amish farmer clad in black with a stovepipe hat, holding a baby girl in bonnet and ruffled pinafore, walking beside the road in Bird-in-Hand, Pa. His face was impassive when I turned to stare out the car window, enchanted. Looked like something from the 1800s. I remember the gigantic sun dial just across the border in Canada. And all the tons of mighty gushing water in Niagara Falls. Almost felt like hurling myself over the platform's rail into its mad rushing depths. The sight of the Falls made me feel like I had to urinate and wanted to drink something. And it was so hot that day, and the vast rolling masses of water looked cool, if not cold. (to be continued)
-
The time I met and kissed Woody Allen's at "Elaine's" in Manhattan. The first time I went out West, on an unforgettable cross country bus trip to Seattle. Savannah, living there two different times, more on Savannah later. Compared to those other places Savannah feels like it's "just down the road a piece," which is a very nice feeling...funny that when one resides in the country, you find yourself just naturally saying things like "down the road a piece" and such. This is really a quiet, mellow existence out here in rural Cornpone County. I even consider the layers of dust which settle on the contents of country stores and everywhere a charming addition to the aesthetics. If not exactly charming, at least distinctive. I wonder why the countryside is so much dustier than in town? Could it be the proximity of unpaved red dirt roads and the more frequent, sometimes turbulent summer breezes? It's okay, because it's another reminder you're in a great place to be--Cornpone County. And right down the road a piece lie mirror-like placid ponds in lovely or interesting shapes that provide a visual cooling off, if not an actual plunge into their depths. I don't walk in the woods all that much because you might see something you don't want to see, all of a sudden. I need to get my Thoreau on and not be so squeamish. And when I see cows, instead of always admiring I sometimes recall an incident when surly bulls chased Karen and me through a large sunny meadow. We tumbled through the barbed wire fence pronto to escape their charge. (As children, we liked to pretend we were in t.v. shows or movies and often used spacious land behind Karen's house for the settings.) That was the first and last occasion we strolled boldly through their bovine midst! Another unusual experience with a cow--the only black and white cow I spotted in this particular bunch--as I drove along the country lane one day, I saw the spotted cow had somehow escaped from the fenced-in herd and trotted alongside the road with an uncannily clever look on its big face. When I passed and viewed Bessie the cow in the car mirror, it was preparing to cross the street to rejoin its cow crowd, and I swear I saw it look both ways before it crossed over. Also, just how it had gotten out of its meadow, and how it got back in, is a mystery...but probably not beyond the powers of a cow smart enough to watch out for the traffic! Which goes to show, there's more to see than you'd imagine, in Cornpone County.--SUSY
-
Very country-ish writing, meandering and very visual. I'll give it up for being interesting
you should write the same style but take us on a trip through different messed up locations! like a big city walk at night immediately comes to mind, but what about the desert, or in the arctic! but you probably don't have the deep knowledge of those types of locations, nor would I. but we use our imaginations. 
-
Thanks, I'm gonna write about going out West. That was awesome. Also loved Savannah a lot. Attempts at "travel writing." Not spiced-up or a bit naughty. I thought people would find this more wholesome fare kind of boring-- I suppose a lot of them react that way. Thanks for the little bit of encouragement
That snoring emoticon is there 'cause of the content of this particular post and how I assumed some readers would react to these sorts of topics. 
: I HAVE thought and felt before, often, that most people desire wholesome innocent high-minded (not THAT kind of high) subjects as much as lurid, sordid sensationalism. -
SusyLuvsPaul:
I HAVE thought and felt before, often, that most people desire wholesome innocent high-minded (not THAT kind of high) subjects as much as lurid, sordid sensationalism.
Sure, I've always thought a good mix is best as well!
