he day was warm and clear, near perfect in the shade. With the sun to my left, my arm had long ago begun to burn from hanging it out the window while driving north on 31-W. I didn’t really even know what I was doing on the old road. I knew whatever I was looking for it wasn’t on I-65. It wasn’t in a Mc’Donald’s or a Citgo or in a mall. No, it was somewhere on 31-W – the old road where commerce and speed and time had forgotten things like mom and pop shops, drive-in movies and nights at the Tasty Freeze.
I rounded a corner, and with the windows down I could hear the clop of the horse’s shod feet on the pavement. I could see the familiar black hat with the wide rim, and as I passed I could see the distinctive beard. And the contrast between my car and this Amish fellow’s buggy made me smile in puzzled amusement at the scope of the world.
I saw this flag, and I waited for that horse and buggy. I thought about the things that make this country great to be in on some days, and this was one of those days.
Allen Bryant is a junior photojournalism major from Owensboro. He can be reached at bryana@wku.edu.
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