Backseat - From Where I Sit

July 2005

By: Michelle

Heading For The Tall Grass

There is an old saying that when life gets tough, weak people "head for the tall grass". This is considered a cowardly thing to do. Up until a few weeks ago, I couldn't have agreed more. That is, until a little unexpected "trip" in the country changed my whole perspective.

It was a beautiful Sunday. Kent and I decided to take a nice bike ride in the country to blow out the cobwebs. I was really looking forward top a little down-time daydreaming on the back seat as we wound around the countryside of Northern Virginia. Over the past six weeks I have had the pleasure of having my bank account emptied through identity theft, a waterline break in the house which resulted in a caved-in ceiling and flooded basement, and to top it all off, I had a root canal that took two trips to complete. Needless to say, I really needed some wind therapy.

We had gone about as far as time and private property laws allowed, when we decided to head back home. As Kent was navigating the tight turn-around, the front wheel went off the road. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I was blissfully unaware of the impending doom until I found myself rising up out of my comfy seat heading straight into a rather deep grass-filled ditch. Before I could even ask what was going on, I found myself face-down in the weeds.

After a moment of disbelief, I stood up. brushed the loose blades of grass from my clothing and tried to comprehend what the heck happened. I knew we were going pretty slowly when we dumped so I was hopeful that there was no damage to the bike. Then I looked down and noticed that Kent was still lying there. For a brief moment I panicked. I nervously asked if he was ok. Much to my relief (and later to my amusement) he just rolled over and said "damn, now we gotta pick this heavy bike up."

As we worked together hoisting the thankfully undamaged bike upright, Kent explained that this was a "planned dump". Given the alternative of crashing on the pavement or landing in the much softer ditch he chose the latter. As he quickly restarted the bike, I suddenly began to look at "tall grass" in a whole new light.

The next weekend when I was tasked with mercilessly attacking the overgrown weeds in our future frontyard, I came across a turtle hidden among the blades. As he retreated into his shell, I started feeling bad about stripping away the "tall grass" that he used for his home. Kent did not see the deep meaning of this event and was much less sympathetic to my cause. Therefore, I was compelled to continue my mission. Regardless, I really think that the turtle had the right idea.

So next time you are out there with your lawn mower or weed eater, be careful - you never know who might be in there. One more root canal and I am joining the turtle.

Thanks for visiting VirginiaWind.

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