AncienTrails

Summer                                                       Moon of the First Harvests

More limbing.  Removal of weed trees, escaped amur maples.  An attractive tree but one prone to wander too freely.  I like using the limbing ax.  Internal combustion engines I don’t like using.  My dislike of them precedes but gets reinforced by my ecological consciousness.  My feelings about them come in part from an inability to work with them well.  Wrenches, screw drivers, fluids, pistons all that never leapt to my hands.

Like the house, I learned all my father knew about them.  Nothing.  For example.  Car. Mower. Weedwhacker.  Lawn tractor.  Snow blower. The chainsaw is a limited and unusual exception.  And yes, I admit it, I never did anything to improve my knowledge or skills, at least not anything that worked.

On another level I fantasized about those engines, read about them, watched and applauded people who did things with different versions.  Fast things.  Like formula 1.  Indianapolis 500.  Drag racing.  Sports Car Graphic and Road and Track were two of my early magazine subscriptions.  Summer nights on Madison Avenue saw Alexandria kids drag racing.  A dangerous pursuit then, seen as the acme of juvenile self-destructiveness.

So there was this duality in my feelings: admiration and loathing.  As I’ve gotten older, the admiration has diminished and the loathing increased.  The Toyota folks at Carlson Toyota take care of our vehicle and I’m very glad for it.  They’re good at what they do and I can’t escape driving.  I’m left with a paradox, a contradiction, a necessary dilemma.

For those of you who love them, my admiration side understands.  Totally.  For those of you like me who would not be sorry to see them go.  I’m with you. 100%.