Summer of ’51

The San Joaquin Valley is an endless canvas. Fields of emerald stretch for miles. There’s a cow. Gone. Sheep drift and settle like clouds. Gone. Wind whips my face. Palm trees appear as if out of place. I inhale the sweet smell of citrus.

California.

Is this Heaven? I don’t believe in God. Somewhere else there’s a war. What’s this holy feeling pressing down on me? If God exists, he’s hiding in those mountains. I’ll pray for all you suburban squares and do gooders.

This is truth. The southern sky  laces crimson before it turns dark. At this pace, we’ll roll into town ahead of nightfall. Hills bank and the road snakes on. Up and down, up and down. This is life.

My buddy Jack, shouts above the Indian’s drone, “Long, hot summer ahead.” 

At the last moment, he’d dropped his tools and joined me on the road. People don’t ask too many questions. We travel light and fast.

I nod. Freedom, man.

There’s no itch for smokes or shots. Cruising an open road is enough of a high. We’ll find a tavern where the drinks are flowing, somewhere after sunset.

TBC

~Summer of ’51, ‘tidal prose’

Draft 4

R. Jackson

aliceandmolly vintage label

aliceandmolly home

For the French girl or boy in you. Make a simple room diffuser. Choose a bottle or jar. Cut a few rose canes- it’s the perfect time to prune. Add condensed rose water to the bottle and several drops of rose essential oil. Wine and Baudelaire.


― “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” 
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Rose water and essential oil are available at most grocery stores that sell natural products.