Car rides and mountains

I love long car rides. Little compares to catching glimpses of foggy mountain valleys from between trees rushing past at 50 mph, listening to the Beatles for hours on end without guilt, and wondering how long these railroads have been here, what and whom they’ve carried to what ends.

We pass so many farms and so many towns, little towns and big towns, all filled with lives like our own—someone cooking dinner, someone applying to college, someone growing up or growing old, all striving endlessly for something, each person crafting a world of his own. We’re like ants, each of us alone and all of us together a single perfect machine, breathing and thinking and moving toward something or other. We walk quickly, briefcase in hand, wound up at birth for some predetermined scheme.

As we pass them, mountains fold into each other like faces of the four-dimensional figures dancing across my math professor’s computer screen. Mountains that just decades ago were impassable fold and fall to feed our fantasies. Strong, stolid mountains crumble for our farms and our roads and our mines and our cities. We’re striving to be gods, never slowing down until we crumble with the mountains we destroy.

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~ by science cow on September 7, 2009.

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