Out of Paducah

We were fortunate enough to go to Florida over spring break and we drove straight through on the way home.  An arduous drive, but not without its delights; chief amongst which were some great family time and seeing a previously unviewed region of our Country.

While streaming north through Nashville, the seventy mile per hour traffic suddenly hit a parking lot, as I-65 North was confoundingly congested due to the hardening of that great, four lane artery down to a single lane.  We quickly opted for "the road less travelled"; I-24 West through northwestern Kentucky and southern Illinois.  Despite our GPS' incessant scolding for ignoring her instructions, it proved to be a great decision.

I-24 is a two lane road in excellent condition, and the fetid heat of congested, urban traffic quickly evaporated within a few miles of Nashville.  Taking us through some lovely and pastoral countryside, the landscape was in the full flush of spring.  Lush and gently rolling, it was as if a celestial carpet layer had placed a quilt of emerald upon the entire region.  

While approaching Paducah I noticed a woman walking through the fields and orchards of her lovely farm, and immediately thought of the enchanting and melancholy song Alone on the Farm from Sidney Pollack's epic film, Out of Africa.  I cued up the movie's sound track on my I-Pod and gave a listen to that achingly beautiful score as we rolled northwesterly towards home.  Written specifically for the film by John Barry, it is superb, and every bit the equal of that enormous film.  The great composer crafted songs that can pull the hardest of hearts out of the tightest of chests.  

Out of Africa is the last great epic I have seen that did not involve technology.  Pollack's masterful film was based on the true story and writings of Karen Blixen (Isak Dinesen), which told of her trek from Denmark to early Twentieth Century, colonial Africa.  The movie details her marriage of convenience, her move to Africa, her attendant failed efforts to establish a coffee plantation, and her heartbreaking romance with the unable to settle down, Twentieth Century hating big-game hunter, Denys Finch Hatton. 

The roles of Blixen and Finch Hatton were immortalized by two of the screen's biggest stars - Meryl Streep and Robert Redford.  From an acting standpoint I always thought Streep blew Redford right off the set, but there is no denying the great leading man's presence in this movie, and in retrospect it is hard to imagine anyone else in that role.  But despite their abilities and presence, it was the continent and the music that took center stage in this film.  Pollack's thirsty, wide angle lens drank in all of Africa's noble and savage beauty, and John Barry's score, using a minimilast ensemble of strings, oboe, and french horn, remains one of the loveliest pieces of music I have ever encountered. 

I wondered about the woman as we drove past..............Was she another Blixen, faced with heartbreak and tragedy?  Or was she a noble heartland wife and mother, secure and happy on her beautiful land? 

I'll never know.

And I'll never again listen to Barry's lovely music without remembering the imagery of that woman and her farm.