My husband and I drove some 450 miles over Mother’s Day weekend. We spent time with family, laughed a lot, and enjoyed listening to live music. I drank just enough wine to induce me to sing. The weather was sublime. As we were homeward bound, the late afternoon sun and unending highway made me think of this:
I like to see it lap the Miles/ And lick the Valleys up
Emily Dickinson was writing about a train, but hunched low in my seat, staring over the dashboard at the road ahead, it looked exactly as though our car was lapping up the miles. So I pointed my camera and snapped some pictures.
I wonder if Miss Dickinson would agree.
A Wilderness of Words 
I like your photos — especially the one with your foot. But about the poem — I wonder, do you think Dickinson liked what that train was doing? I mean, her language is far from complimentary:
Complaining all the while
In horrid – hooting stanza –
Then chase itself down Hill
etc.,.
Hard to imagine her putting her feet up (much less the bright red polish) and enjoying the ride. But, I’m glad you did.
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I like your photos — especially the one with your foot. But about that poem: I wonder, do you think Dickinson liked what the train was doing? Her language is hardly complimentary:
Complaining all the while
In horrid – hooting stanza –
Then chase itself down Hill
Difficult to imagine her putting her feet up (much less opting for bright-red polish) and enjoying the ride. But I’m glad you did.
A.
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Thanks. I’m glad you like them.
Regarding the poem, Miss Emily begins by saying she likes “it,” and the lines you quote seem to me to be about the train as it pares itself through a quarry, which she imagines a tight fit. Makes me think that the language – the complaining, the horrid hooting, is more about how the train is feeling in that circumstance, not necessarily how Dickinson feels about the train. I think she was curious about the train, maybe a little amazed by it – she was so reclusive.
Oh, I do like to imagine that had she been born a hundred years later, she might very well be the kind of woman who would paint her toes red and have no qualms about resting her feet on the dash.
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Your blog is wonderful. A Wilderness of Words, another Dickinson reference, maybe? I thought that Emily might not wear red polish because of her utilitarian everyday dress, but then I remembered that she stood (or sat) against the rest of the students to the authoritative call to religion during her school years. So maybe she would paint her toes red!
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Aren’t you sweet, Licia. Thank you for your kind words. As far as I know Dickinson never said anything about a “wilderness of words”. I chose the title because I love words, all kinds of words, can’t get enough of words. And I liked the sound of it!
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The photos remind me of the many trips taken with my family when I was a young’un. I always loved our trips through New England, usually Connecticut to Maine. Guess it’s because they look like old photos – in composition and subject, in their faded colors. What camera/software did you use? Really nice to look at. Even the piggies in the window 😀
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