Artist Jim Franklin gained notoriety in the 1970s for his drawings promoting the legendary
, music venue Armadillo
World Headquarters. Austin,
Texas Franklin’s posters and handbills often
featured the curious little armored critters in curiously disarming situations.
One of my favorite
was titled “ Alternate Route,”
a pen-and-ink drawing set along an innocuous, two-lane byway. It depicted a stream of armadillos leaping
from one side of the road, arching high above it, and landing safely on the
other side. If you have ever paid
attention to the regularity with which these creatures meet their demise on the
asphalt ribbons that bisect their habitat, you can appreciate the hopeful theme
of Franklin’s artistry. (If you happen to be an armadillo, I would
imagine the humble drawing takes on da Vinci-like significance.)
|A variation on Franklin's autos-vs-armadillos theme.|
As my family would readily affirm, I have an affinity for the alternate route. I’m given to traveling to a destination on one course and returning home a different, often more complex way. While I don’t recommend the alternate route when pulling a horse trailer – the path of least resistance and widest traffic lanes is best suited for those occasions – I believe there is a lot to be said for veering off the beaten path at other times.
Recently, instead of retracing a three-hour, straight-shot interstate trip, I decided to meander home on an alternate route. More stop lights and more head-on traffic, to be sure. But also a great deal more to experience in what has quickly blossomed into a verdant spring season. The wildflowers were spectacular. With the sun angling toward the horizon, colors and shadows made a marvelous display as horses grazed in rolling fields. The pace and the peace were welcome companions.
Next time you get the chance, give the alternate route a try.