Old Siler City Rd. and Hwy. 64
This weekend we head to the Bay! This is exciting to me for a variety of reasons, including the chance to see friends and family without the stressed of any planned agenda.
But mostly I get excited because that part of the world is so relaxing to me. Over the Fourth of July last year a select group gathered at the house with dangerous fireworks and risky ideas. One of these ideas was to travel directly through the sea grass and swampy ground and later, as we found out, water moccasins, to the neighbor's house where there were no a) hot girls, to the boys' dismay and surprise ("I bet there are TONS OF hot girls over there," was one of the prompts for this lunatic adventure) or b) celebratory beers shared and raised in honor of our heroic journey all in the name of good friends, peace and love.
Instead we got blank stares except from a few semi-drunken good sports and the recommendation to take the clearly-marked path back to our house for the return route.
The next day, however, this was a great story, made even more wondrous when my mother informed us we could have been brutally killed by poisonous snakes.
It's not in every day life that you come upon these relaxing scenes and unstructured moments, especially where you work. I've grown tired with the rural life and view my daily travels here not as a break from the busier life, but as an obligation. And an obligation I never wanted to explore. I wanted bustling streets and strangers.
However, every once in a while I turn a corner and see a long road or field full of some unidentifiable crop and remember it's beautiful. And that both the places you love because no responsibility comes with the territory and the places you become responsible for offer equally peaceful moments.
But mostly I get excited because that part of the world is so relaxing to me. Over the Fourth of July last year a select group gathered at the house with dangerous fireworks and risky ideas. One of these ideas was to travel directly through the sea grass and swampy ground and later, as we found out, water moccasins, to the neighbor's house where there were no a) hot girls, to the boys' dismay and surprise ("I bet there are TONS OF hot girls over there," was one of the prompts for this lunatic adventure) or b) celebratory beers shared and raised in honor of our heroic journey all in the name of good friends, peace and love.
Instead we got blank stares except from a few semi-drunken good sports and the recommendation to take the clearly-marked path back to our house for the return route.
The next day, however, this was a great story, made even more wondrous when my mother informed us we could have been brutally killed by poisonous snakes.
It's not in every day life that you come upon these relaxing scenes and unstructured moments, especially where you work. I've grown tired with the rural life and view my daily travels here not as a break from the busier life, but as an obligation. And an obligation I never wanted to explore. I wanted bustling streets and strangers.
However, every once in a while I turn a corner and see a long road or field full of some unidentifiable crop and remember it's beautiful. And that both the places you love because no responsibility comes with the territory and the places you become responsible for offer equally peaceful moments.
posted by Cara Maria McDonough at 9:14 AM
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