"Glorious, stirring sight!" murmured Toad, never offering to move. "The poetry of motion! The real way to travel! The only way to travel! Here today--in next week tomorrow! Villages skipped, towns and cities jumped--always somebody else's horizon! O bliss! O poop-poop! O my! O my!"
"O stop being an ass, Toad!" cried the Mole despairingly.
"And to think I never knew!" went on the Toad in a dreamy monotone. "All those wasted years that lie behind me, I never knew, never even dreamt! But now--but now that I know, now that I fully realise! O what a flowery track lies spread before me, henceforth! What dust-clouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on my reckless way! What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my magnificent onset! Horrid little carts--common carts--canary-coloured carts!"
The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame (1908)
A blog about the driving state of mind.
This is a blog about driving. It's not a blog about cars and how they're built and how they perform. It's about the panorama that feeds into our brain and eyes and ears, the train of thought that makes up a road trip, whether two blocks or two thousand miles. If the personal automobile disappears as a feature of American life, I want to explore what it is we'll be losing.
Driver
Behind the wheel
About Me
- Driver
- I'll drive.
No comments:
Post a Comment