Adam and I decided to take a weekend trip to North Carolina. He was driving, and I was riding in the passenger seat and complaining that I couldn't see the mountains yet, even though I knew we were still in Georgia and therefore shouldn't have been able to see the mountains. I was impatient. I wanted to take pictures to use up the film in my old camera.
Finally, after hours of complaining, Adam said to me, "Laurie, now you can see the mountains." And I could. I had been whining so much that I hadn't noticed when they actually appeared on the horizon. I also realized that Adam was no longer driving on the highways, or even on a paved road. Instead, we found ourselves on top of a small mountain, his car poised precariously on the summit. The mountain was covered in green grass and looked more like something you'd see in Ireland.
I requested that we get out and have a picnic. Adam agreed, though I'm not sure we had any food. We stopped and got out of the car, adn then entered what looked to be a park. It was cloudy and overcast, and the air was cold. Not exactly perfect picnic weather.
The park turned out to be a farm. There were hills at the entrance to the farm that looked to be covered with white flowers, but on closer inspection I saw that the flowers were actually baby rabbits. Thousands of them. They were tiny, and they were all bunched up against each other, sleeping. Apparently this was the way they were supposed to live until they grew big enough to hop around on their own. The problem was that too many people were coming to this farm (not to see the bunnies, it seemed, but to run around in the fields), and they were parking their SUVs and minivans righ up next to the bunnies. Some of them had been run over, and their remains had turned plastic and been driven into the mud. All over the field were the plastic imprints of bunnies.
I started running away. I grabbed Adam and told him to come with me. As we were running, we saw a family in the field, standing and singing hymns. I ran by them and one of the kids -- a boy of about nine -- stuck out his foot and tripped me. His dad laughed and said, "Still got it!"
I told Adam I had to move the car. I got in, and it turned out to be my mom's Nissan Altima. I was trying to back it up into the road, but I couldn't make the car drive in reverse in a straight line. No matter how I moved the steering wheel, the car always moved in a haphazard way. I was crying out of frustration, as well as sadness for the rabbits. Adam told me he would move the car instead, which he did perfectly.
