June 7, 2020

These back roads skirting Denton remind me of the rural routes I saw growing up in Western Pennsylvania. Those asphalt labyrinths, dotted by modest farmhouses and fortified by huge swaths of rolling green and brown, snaked for endless miles. Many memories were made on those buckling ups and downs, like bouncing wildly on the inner tube in the back of the Scout on the way to Lake St. Francis. The 9th grade students who arrived at school with fresh mud thickly caked to their boots lived on such arteries. The hijacked earth was a sign that their address started with RD.