The country flavour still exists in Langley

A drive in the country helps restore the soul after a busy time.

Driving back and forth between the Langley Events Centre and McLeod Athletic Park for four days was a truly frustrating experience. Keeping the Special Olympic events moving required many logistics trips, and the traffic and construction made each trip seem longer than the last.

It wasn’t just me. Buses and the people delivering food had to leave more and more time to ensure timely arrival at the venues. I couldn’t help but think that this certainly was not my old home town.

But when the event was done and I had some time to relax, I fired up my old Ford pickup and went for a country drive. Down through the farms in Glen Valley and along 8 or 16 Avenues, the Langley I grew up in still exists.

It is amazing how a drive in that old truck past those farms where I worked will strip the tension from my neck, and put peace back in my soul. We have to do that as often  as we can — get away from the noise and the speed of day to day life.

Take some time, look around, find your spot and make a point to go there as often as you can. A quiet spot in the cool of the evening is great place to leave the troubles that followed you home. At least that’s what McGregor says.

Backroads

I was driving down a back road

in the town where I grew up,

My old truck was pointed

At the setting sun.

One hand on the wheel

and one arm resting on door,

While my 8-track played

An old Hank Williams tune.

 

A farmer has just cut his field

And a coyote waits for dinner,

the smell of fresh cut hay

Is heavy in the air.

The heat of day has gone

and there is no other traffic,

The farms are far apart

Trees stand silently and stare.

 

I think they are suspicious

To see me travelling so slow

Not many people stop

To look around these days.

I spot an owl on a fence post

and the crimson sky ahead

Is painting landscapes

On the early evening haze.

 

I was sitting at a stoplight

By the farm where I grew up

Waiting for those trains

That have no ends.

The farms and fields are gone

Coyotes and owls missing,

Where we played baseball

They now sell Mercedes Benz.

 

The trucks keep hauling blacktop

And pour it on the fields

The smell  of hay

Will slowly disappear;

Take a drive at sunset

Find a quiet country road,

Load up your memories

While you still find them here.

Langley Times

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