Some of you may know my occupation: I am a Teacher in a Rural School District in Northern Illinois. Every week, instead of driving the 20-odd minutes to my day-to-day building, I visit a different building in my School District.

This change of pace provides me with an opportunity to take in the scenic views of Northern Illinois that I would otherwise miss. As we head toward the middle of Autumn, the mornings are slower to start, and the qualia are steadily shifting.

I wrote this piece about one particular morning, during this Harvest Season, when the natural beauty of Northern Illinois was at its most sublime.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedAmong subtle scents of petrichor,

Under golden purpl’d skies I roam,

To hamlet small, of Bobcat Pride, a place that few call home

The early hour clouded by morning rains abating,

I sit beneath the crimson lights, for verdant green awaiting.

O’er hill and dale my wheels, they surely are a-turning,

Depress’d the pedal is

Tis gas I am a-burning

The fields of soy are busy now,

The time has come for reaping,

They toil away with farmers pride

While other still are sleeping

The archaic style of the piece was my attempt at channeling the pastoral and naturalistic styles of the poets of the Romantic Era.

To quote Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” so be sure to take in the world, even just for a moment. You might just find that your morning commute can be it’s own worthwhile meditation.

Until Next Time,

Drew Swenson (dmatiq)