Idle Time

Twenty miles north of me there is a stretch of road dotted by houses the size of postage stamps.  The road is a four lane divided highway that was once a rural two lane thoroughfare.  Well, rural by today's standards but back when it was first carved through farm country I'm sure the road was nothing short of impressive.

The houses that seem barley large enough to contain an eat-in kitchen, living room, bath, and one or two bedrooms reflect the fact that the area used to be farm land. I suspect the houses were once called home by working hands.

Today the tiny houses seem completely out of place; for as the roadway widened and traffic increased car dealerships and other business establishments bought up the crop lands. These cottages are now fronted by miles of asphalt and hundreds of high intensity sodium lights.

I can't help but wonder what the folks who used to sit in wooden rockers on the front porches of those homes would think if they returned today.  Perhaps they would feel it was time to level the homes and move on 'cause inhaling gasoline and diesel exhaust ain't to way to pass whatever idle time you might be gifted with.