America at The Finest

Sunday and Monday I spent the days riding across Missouri and seeing parts of the country we so rarely even know exist. One country song calls it the "fly over" states. I chose to ride on two lane back roads as much as possible. Some of it was much like home, large bales of hay in fields of gold and rows of corn waving in the summer sun. You cannot understand the smell of the corn on a hot summer day if you haven't either ridden a motorcycle past these fields or driven your tractor through them. Corn has a distinct smell, a sweet odor that is intoxicating and almost humbling when you stop to think of the individuals and families who bring it to our tables, to our factories, to our gas pumps... to our every day lives. But if you have never been surrounded by the crops, it is hard to describe. 

I rode through small towns with Old Glory flying along the roads all the way through town. I may be a sap, but I still get choked up when I see that. 

And I rode past a farm with dozens and dozens of US flags, old glory, hanging from the power poles along their property. Unlike the small towns I had ridden through that had hung our flags down their byways, this was another thing. Some unknown individual or family had taken the time, effort and expense to hang dozens of flags along highway 52 in Missouri. This sort of patriotism leaves me speechless. Because nobody is giving them an award. It was humbling and breathtaking. 

And the two lane backroads gave me time to consider how very fortunate I am. I got news these last couple days that somebody lost a granddaughter in an auto accident last week. I got news that somebody lost their home to a fire due to a fireworks gone astray I got news that somebody's great grandchild is clinging to lifew with a threatening illness. And life goes on. And I spent the last two days thinking about these people whose lives have been irrevocably changed in a moment. Rolling along with nothing but the wind, the time and the sky to surround me, I have time to think of all these things. 

I lhad farmers wave to me from their tractors. I had locals wave to me from their yards. Just random people who wanted to say, Hey, welcome to our part of the country. Republican. Democrat. Gay. Straight. It doesn't matter who you are. Because this is the country I love. And I love sharing it with you.

Peace and Love All. We are all part of the fabric of this country.

--Bobbi