The Song of the Miata

The Song of the Miata

It begins with the chirp of the insects deep inside the corn fields. A slightly acrid scent from the same fields provides an olfactory background.

The engine, as finely tuned as a swiss watch, rises and falls in pitch as we work through the gears. Its part complete, it fades into the background as the song reaches the sustained crescendo of the rush of the oncoming air beating against your ears, and the chirping of millions of individual insects compressed into a steady screech.

Periodically, the snick-snick of the tires crossing the tar used by the road crews to fill the cracks in the pavement interrupts the steady hum of the tires.

A stop sign approaches and the entire song is played in reverse, as if to find a rumored hidden meaning, as you would with a Beatles song. The identity of the Walrus is not forthcoming, though.

The intersection cleared, the melody repeats, with each player re-entering in turn. The melody is familiar, but never repetitive, never monotonous.

Then, you're there.

The engine is off, but still ticking as it cools.

The driver's knuckles and back snap as they're stretched.

The song is over.

For now.


As always, click on a picture to see a larger version:







"Reflecting on Life"






I call this one "The Road Not Taken"










Jus' guessing, but I think Co-pilot Egg enjoyed her stay!

My brother has his race car done:








When we were kids, our grandmother used to tell him "Play safe, we don't have any Band-aids."

The big hat on the front is from his engine sponsor, Big Hat Stables (Farm?), the home of fine Standardbred pacers.