It’s quiet, the wind is blowing, and gentle. This is madison. Scyzophrenic river waters, the currents push the murky water in any number of paradoxical rotations, behind me elderly couples drive by on public roads in golf carts, scooters, and the classic amercian Ford pickup. Not a Honda or Toyota to be seen around here.
Over the water, far across the bridge, up out of the valley and atop the peak stood a handful of homes. One, two, maybe three, possibly four but no more. A far cry from the city where you are more likely to have more house than land. Over there, just on the otherside of Americana, above the RV’s and camper trailers huddled together below like sardines. Life is still, slow, & experienced…not manufactured.
The variety of experiences is interesting peculiar. Wave runners, young folk, barely out of school from appearance, life jackets fastened tightly. They were cruising through the river waters gingerly, enough to cause ripples but far from making waves. In these murky waters who knows how dangerous a fall in might be. It’s probably not that bad but do you really want to find out. I didn’t think so.
Back to the water. A small cruiser coast past the wave runners while a small two man fishing boat pulls off from shore. Im fairly certain I’ve seen the same golf cart go past behind me now several times, I mean there can only be so many golf carts in one spot. I doubt that all the golf carts in the universe haven’t congregated in one large conglameration for the intergalactic golf cart new world order convention here in unsuspecting Madison, IN.
Veterans, bikers, hikers, joggers, bakers, guys with pony tails, and girls with crew cuts. Maybe you’ve seen one but you certainly have not seen all. Look at this, take a look over my left shoulder…not your left, mine. A brigade of hover-rounds coming down the street. And there goes that blue golf cart again. Golf cart convention, Hover-round gathering, where am I. Is this the Twilight Zone?
The wind is beginning to have an increased effect on the river now, the sound of the waters crashing on the shore is soothing. Oh something I yearn for at home. The air taste better here, the quiet sounds better, I believe the word is called peace. Yeah, that feeling when you just don’t give a rip, in a good way. I’ve come to define it like this, a moment in time where you think to yourself with complete sincerity, “why would I change anything?”.