Zydeco road

There’s something uneasy about the country. You expect nothing to be around, and so it worries you a touch when you notice someone is coming. Are they supposed to be along this way? If they’re not, why are they here? If they’re here for no good reason how long will it take for help to get here? My friends live down this road where at night you can hear it coming from maybe a mile or more away. It starts as an unnatural noise up in the corner and then slides down to the horizon when you see it. When you orient the sound with the visual it then blows you away just how long it takes to arrive. Sound and light carry so well and from such a distance at night.

A few hours after taking this shot a noise rolled our way from way down the dirt road. It sounded all treble from the treeline but then became more distiguishable. Loud, upbeat music – like a party. Two vehicles traveled slowly our way, almost as though they were attempting to avoid kicking up the dust. It made sense. As they passed, I hid along a fence to get a good look at them – a father and son riding ATVs blaring zydeco music. They had fishing tackle tacked on to the back of their bikes, and the teenaged boy had hung a boombox off one of his handlebars. They crept by at maybe 10 miles per hour, grinding the road into a cone of dust behind them.
Zydeco road
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