Rural Reflections

I share a past with some old machines that seem more like friends than a careful placement of gears and other metal parts. I suspect my relationship with them is based on the memories created during our collaborative experience. You will never forget your first car. It was cold and raining this past week and I fell back into memories of my Mercury Montego. It was blue with a white vinyl top. My parents helped me purchase the car and we picked it up on a similarly chilly, wet day. I remember how clean it was, and the paper floor mats, this presentation really set me into the moment of what had just happened. I think the first place we drove it was to Grandma Nelson’s place. Teenage experiences are so condensed over a few short years, they’re just blur. I was transported to some of those experiences in that car; every drive smacked of independence and it tasted good.