Saturday, April 14, 2007


Route 66 has at least 5 seasons, the normal four seasons and then the Memory Season and I always have trouble deciding which season that I am remembering because they intermingle with reality.

on Route 66 is a beautiful time with all of the spring trimmings, flowers, dandelion parachutes floating in the air, farm dogs chasing our car, birds building nests and farmers planting new crops along side the road. Farmer’s waving friendly waves from tractors out in the fields. Spotted cattle and horses in fields by the highway. The occasional grasshopper flying in the window or taking a ride on the hood. Moving wetly towards summer.

Summer on Route 66 with bugs on the windshield, the hot sun high in the sky, windows wide open and hot, did mention hot before? Water bag hanging on the front grille tantalizing young imaginations, paper pasted in the windows to block out the sun, sweat soaked hankies hanging out the window to dry. Complaints from the back seat about, “How much longer?” or The plaintive cry of a child needing to go to the bathroom. Burma Shave signs partially hidden but weeds and grass. Moving hotly towards fall. Windmills moving in cadence with the wind like palm trees.

Fall with a touch of frost, leaves blowing off of the trees and across the roadway. Farmers harvesting their crops and school buses and equipment-laden tractors slowing down traffic. Burma Shave Signs easier to see as the grass recedes.Signs of farms settling in for winter, filling up the silos and baling the hay, corn stacked in shocks in the fields. Moving swiftly towards winter.

Winter with snow along the road, kids playing in snow banks, snowmen standing silent vigil, a tribute to youthful activity. Soft snow falling and slowing down travel. The anticipation of seeing grandparents and opening gifts, turkey and dressing, Renewing friendships with all of the farm animals, chasing the chickens around And running from the geese and turkeys. Sad goodbyes and horrible thoughts of returning to school after the holiday vacation.

Is that four, five or a hundred seasons? I can’t tell where memory ends and reality begins. All that I know is that whatever memories I have, Route 66 runs like a river though them, timelessly and endlessly!

Time to get out the Route 66 Cruiser and plan your next trip down the Mother Road!!

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