Summer’s Imagery

I came across a little gem of a book entitled The Well Educated Mind. I shan’t go into it here, but I have much to say about the travesty that is the American education system.

Rants aside, Bauer deftly raises many good points throughout the book. Perhaps most intriguing to me is her call to journal. I had always thought that one should save his thoughts and capitulations for rainy days anon. Certainly, though, thinking and doing are two very different actions: I never actually ended up journaling, because it quickly became overly tedious. My bedroom, therefore, is rife with journals scantly filled with random thoughts and notes I’d taken on books I was reading at the time.

As for summer imagery: I was driving last night, going about 80 MPH down a country road in rural Pennsylvania. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the setting, relatively small farms and pastures are separated by parcels of woodlands. The rolling hills and abrupt peaks of the Allegheny plateau make for a farming environment rather different than the expansive plains of the Midwest.

Anyways, my speed coupled with the undulating irregularity of the scenery provided a unique experience: With every breath I took in, my senses were inundated with an entirely new complement of olfactory images. It’s interesting to me how intimately associated one’s sense of smell is to his memory.

I grew up among the natural dips and sudden clines of this region. I hadn’t been back for quite sometime, and the smell of moist clover and honeysuckle transported me back in time to memories of bygone years.

As I continued my drive, I passed over a small stream and was hit with the smell of wet oil with which the region is uniquely punctuated.

Ten years ago, this was me. A young boy both fascinated and contemptuous with his surroundings. Yearning for crowded streets and open minds.