|Posted by ruthsmithmeyer-com on September 27, 2012 at 8:20 PM|
Same old, same old… Same old?
Commuters often drive the same roads twice a day for the length of their careers. Bus drivers, truckers and delivery people do too. What do they see?
As a school bus driver with the same route for at least ten years, I often marveled at the things I saw along the way. Several years, a snowy owl hung out in a two-block area for the winters. It never ceased to fill me with awe. I watched a Great Blue Heron build its nest in a tree beside a small creek. I observed one woman faithfully taking her dogs for a walk around the perimeter of the farm. With interest I watched one house take years to become habitable, several homes receiving face lifts and many landscaping projects beautifying their owner’s habitation. I noticed changes, but sometimes too, noted things I had missed even though I drove the same route so often.
For the seven years I’ve been married to my Wise One, we have travelled the hour between our two homes, much of the time, weekly. Some wonder that we don’t get tired of it. That hour, though, most often, is a time of relaxation and enjoyment. We travel through farming country and several small towns and villages, through all kinds of weather and four seasons of the year.
The weather and seasons alone bring a never-ending progression of scenery that brings delight to the eye. The snow covered landscape, the frost on trees after a winter’s fog, the sparkle of the branches in the sun after they have been covered with a freezing rain. In the spring we follow the receding of the snow, the drying of the land and the new growth greening the landscape and dressing the trees.
Summer brings a plethora of flowers, both wild and domesticated, the harvesting of crops, the smell of freshly mown hay. Then comes fall with its blue, blue skies and purple lined clouds, the trees in their autumn splendor—my favorite season.
Sometimes I keep my camera handy to record some of those sights. Again, we have witnessed building projects, landscaping improvements, the tragedy of a house fire and the subsequent building of a new home. We see farmers and gardeners sharing the wealth of their gardens at roadside stands along the way. In one small town we enjoy the wood carving done on the trunk of a tree that had to be removed—artistry borne out of death.
As with the commuters, and my bus run, I am amazed at how often I still see something I hadn’t noticed before and I marvel at how often you can drive the same route and still miss a vital part of the scenery.
It made me think of my reading habits. As a youngster, I read books over and over again. Some of my favorites were probably read dozens of times. I couldn’t understand people who would read a book once then give it away. Now maybe part of the reason was that there wasn’t a lot of money around to buy books; there were only five eight-foot shelves of books in our school library and I didn’t have access to the town library for many years.
I had to read—to me it was as necessary as eating. So my only alternative was to read the same books again and again. I read my school readers many times and I even read the dictionary from cover to cover. Those books became old friends I still treasure. That is why I keep as many books as I do, although I have begun to donate them to the church library so others can benefit, and I still have access to them.
I’ve prayed that my writing may also merit multiple readings, so I was pleased when again last Sunday, a woman told me she just read my two novels again and enjoyed them as much as the first time.