May 1, 2013
-
I Knew It Was Summer
I have a habit of escaping to my parents’ lake house at the end of each quarter to change my scenery a little and study. It’s quiet there and a little more secluded. I don’t have to worry about sirens going off at night, or my car getting rummaged through. It’s just far enough away from civilization to “reset,” and far enough from where I live to make a trip out of it. The end of this quarter was a beautiful time to make the drive.
It’s been unusually cool for this time of year here. I can’t complain. The air’s freshness only made the soft, cool cerulean of the bluebonnets melt into the same-colored sky. The bluebonnets and coral-colored Indian paintbrushes meandering through the patches evening primroses created a lovely moment. These pastel-dressed fields–dotted with emblematic Angus, Herefords, and the occasional longhorn–marked the distances between the small towns as I drove home through Central Texas Saturday.
However, an aestival harbinger occasionally disrupted these vernal vistas. I was not the only traveler along the hundred-mile stretch of back roads. But, these curious travelers didn’t travel the roads, but across them. Between towns, and hills, and the soft-dressed meadows, one wanderer foretells the approach of sweltering heat. As the proverbial canary in the mineshaft, it is not its life that is the most telling, but its death.
Yes, the beguiling armadillo. It’s a tiny tank on the constant prowl for the insects that nourish it. It’s an unassuming character in the Texas landscape: it scuttles and digs and rarely concerns itself with what happens a foot above it…that is, until it’s too late. The armadillo has a terrible habit of jumping straight up when frightened. Often, finding that a car has straddled over you suddenly is a reason for fright. The process becomes scuttle, rumble, bust. Thus it has been, thus it will be. And that’s how I knew it was summer.
Seeing the dead little buggers on the side of the road like overinflated, legged footballs means that summer is here–which would suggest a reason to celebrate. But, unfortunately, dead armadillos are never the end of the scene. Alongside, feeding on the fleshy, crimson treasure within the armored hull were the vultures, dark and looming. They basked in the misfortune of the literally run-down and dis-heartened. And suddenly I remembered my professors. And my exams.
Alas, two are now done. The third will be the hardest. It’s sobering to remember that 5-10% of students every quarter don’t pass one of the exams. I’m praying fervently that I am not in their number. Also studying. But, there are definitely prayers that go up during the study breaks.
Comments (14)
Good luck with your exams.
Many millions years of adaption will not be changed in some decennia. Cars are here now, but not for long and the poor Amadillo never adapted to the danger of a road.
I guess you don’t know the chance of one of them being hit by a car in the summer,I hope not the same 5-10%, as of a studying student.We people love percentages, don’t we?90-95% is much higher than 5-10% There is a reason to be optimist.
You’re a great writer, please don’t stop writing!
Well, don’t stop until after your exams anyway! Good luck.
I enjoy reading this. Great writes. You would make a wonderful journalist. Reading your profile, you must be good with numbers too since you are a Econ major. Good luck with finals.
We don’t have armadillo, (I like your description of them as footballs with legs), but growing up we had raccoons that would get hit by cars, and down south here we see a lot of dead possums and squirrels. Never a pleasant sight, especially when they are mushed and/or half eaten.
@Erika_Steele - Thanks. Your sentiment will carry me through these next two days of studying.
@carlo - We do love our statistics. They give us an illusory comfort when we’re not sure about the future.
@XtremePsionic - Thanks, I’ll need it! Apparently wannabe lawyers have to know a LOT of stuff.
@stevew918 - It’s a common misperception that people with economics degrees are good with numbers. Really, we’re just good at drawing graphs.
@Crystalinne - We have those too, but they’re perennial sights. For some reasons, armadillos only seem to get run over (early in) the warmer months. Maybe that’s when the inexperienced newbies are out and about. Anyway, thanks for stopping by.
You have been so passionate about your studies and exams. I know you have studied hard and have every thing to be proud about the way you take your challenges. I pray that you come out with very good results.
Football with legs? Funny!
I really need to get to Texas. Best of luck with exams.
beautiful description… even of dead armadillos. good luck with finals!
I’ve never seen an armadillo in the wild! They definitely lose when matched against a vehicle!!
There are three kind of lies: Lies,damned lies and statistics.
(Disraeli -British Prime Minister).
@ZSA_MD - Thanks! I’m desperately trying to cram in all the stuff we’ve covered so far…and it’s a lot. There are lawyers who’ve done this for thirty years who probably wouldn’t know all the stuff on the exam…keep me in your prayers tomorrow!
@lonelywanderer2 - Why yes you do. It’s a whole other country.
@warangel634 - Thanks. And thanks for visiting! I hope to see you around again some time.
@murisopsis - And they don’t just lose a little…they lose big time. Over and and over and over again. You’d think they learn. Sadly, they don’t.
@carlo - That is one of my grandfather’s favorite quotes too. He often adds immediately afterwards, “Figures lie and liars figure.” I think that was said by Mark Twain, but I’m not sure.
Aw, poor little ‘dillos!
I enjoyed reading this! Your words painted a beautiful picture of the flowers in Texas!
Ha! I laughed when you mentioned remembering your profs right then. As a teacher, I get that!
Praying the rest of your exams go well!
HUGS!!!
You work hard and will be rewarded .
We do not count anymore the lot of wold animals killed on the road by the four wheeled speed monster in iron .
Courage
Michel