My tangled thoughts while riding the rails rambles on.

If you missed the previous entries:

Part One: Crossroads
Part Two: Trees 
Can memory build a lane way?

File:In the corn field.jpg
Source: Wiki Creative Commons,  author Lars Plougmann


Green blur gives way to farmland, and the sight of a corn field recalls the farm of my youth.
If you are a child born into the concrete jungle, you probably don't know what an adventurous playground a huge cornfield can be. 

Or shucking corn barefoot on the front lawn with your cousins.   Someone always ends up wearing a wig of summery yellow corn silk.   You do know how to shuck corn properly right?   Or do you end up picking out hundreds of silky wisps from the cob?   It's all in the tassel grip my friends.

Whatever your shuck method is, we all know the eventual result:  golden cobs smothered in golden butter devoured around a big country table.   This is my memory.   You're memory may be different: but this is mine.

Ever been lost in cornfield?   Yeah, those rows don't necessarily lead home, do they.   It's not always as neatly laid out as you might think.   Some are circular.  There are cross-sections.   If you are a small child, corn can grow over 8 feet tall.    Certainly, if you can find a straight path and simply follow it, you should come to the edge of the field eventually. 

Unless you're a cow.
And it's night.

(Wait...what?   You thought cows just grazed on grass?   Well, most of the time they do.  But sometimes, they may need extra supplements to their diet, so a farmer might also offer them various grain products; which can include corn.   Much like us, too much of one thing is not good for the cow.  If they munched down on corn, say the same way I would be all over dem dere Reese's Cups of delicious chocolate and peanut butter goodness: same result.   Except a cow cannot take Pepto Bismal.)

And cows LOVE corn.  Seriously, they will run you down for it.
(again, don't get between me and my Reese)
And often, all that stands between a cow and corn, is this:

http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/wooden-fence-near-corn-field-10962195.jpg


A cow can weigh anywhere from 600 to 1000 pounds.
And they tend to be in herds.   You do the math.

So, all of this has been a rather lengthy segue of  That Time I Was Stuck in a Cornfield In the Dark of Night.....With a Cow.

If you've grown up on, or having spent much time on a cattle farm as I did, you know that most of the time, fencing is strong and good.   And other times, the cattle win.   So you are not really frightened when you are awakened in the dead of night to go out and help chase the cattle out of the corn.
Same old, right?
Unless you're say, about 7 or 8 years old - in which case: you wait in the truck.
In the corn field.
In the dark.   Alone.
Waiting.

Minutes stretch into hours when you're a child, and darkness lengthens it even more.
The corn husks sway in the night wind, scratching the sides of the old rusty truck.   The silky tops brushing the windows, while the stalks throw twisted shadows upon the hood.
I don't care if you throw a young Kevin Costner outside the vehicle -- a cornfield at night is just plain ole creepy!!  (And this is before I knew horror movies about scarecrows and children of the corn existed.)

You wait.   Trying to be brave and straining to hear familiar voices in the dark.   Then, you DO hear something.   There's definitely the sound of the corns husks swishing.  Like something is pushing them aside.  Something....big.    If you have spent a lot of time in farm trucks, you know they have lights and how to turn them on.....but your hand pauses on that knob.
Is it better - not knowing what is outside?

You crouch low as a shadow blocks the moonlight from the truck window.   If you are small enough, whatever it is, might not find you.   Be quiet. Be still.  Close your eyes.   It's better not knowing, then letting the light reveal.   If I can't see you - you can't see me.

Or, is that which your mind can conjure, far worse than the reality of whatever is trampling the corn outside the truck?   If you take a breath, calm your fears, you will remember - why am I out here in the first place?   What was I seeking?

The cows are in the corn.
So, you reach out that small hand, while still keeping your eyes safely below the dashboard, and turn that knob.  Light floods the truck windows.  Somehow making the stalk shadows longer.   Silky handed arms that stretch into the truck cab.   Can you be brave enough to raise your eyes and look into the light?

And just then, a familiar sound solves the riddle.   And you know.

http://farmtek.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/cows-out-7.jpg
Source
Because of course.
Cows.  They moved away from what was looking for them, and towards this other great metal beast that crouched in the night.
Now don't I fool as foolish as a little girl could.

How much more foolish do I feel as an adult?
When I still try to crouch in the dark and hide from my fears.  Making myself small and squeezing out the pain, as though it will not find me.   Instead of simply reaching towards the light that will chase away the shadows, and reveal the truth that can set me free. 

You know what else corn reminds me of?
Grandma's smile.
And when I think of that light - though it be gone from this world - I feel good.
Like all is right with the world and I must be okay.   Simply because corn reminds me of my late Grandma's smile.   I cannot be so lost, if this loving sign is all it takes to get me back to feeling good.

Memory can build a lane way.
But like all other choices in life:  you just have to be sure to pick the right one.
Darkness cannot reveal darkness: only light can do that.

And that is why the sight of corn blowing in the wind doesn't scare me.
Or make me feel small. 
Or worry that life is not always neatly laid in easily traveled rows.
I may go to the edge sometimes, but it is often there, I find my way home.

About The Author
Leslie Botchar, aka "RoryBore", is a SAHM enjoying life one day - and one cup of coffee - at at time.
She has had several articles published in The Huffington Post, and hopes to one day marry her skills as Word Wrangler and Photo Ninja. Leslie spills it all on her blog Time Out For Mom, and invites you to join her for some Mom "Me" Time.
Connect with her: Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram.