单项选择题

Jones Beach Connecticut is beautiful in early June. The rolling hills are green and beckoning, the leaves on the trees full and deep. The land is fertile, washed and nourished by the spring rains; and in the rich soil of gardens, peas and carrots are appearing. The mornings are warm and clear, the sun rising early so that by midday you can get a taste of the summer heat that will follow in July and August. On a day like this, on a Wednesday morning in early June, it is possible to feel free; for school is over for the year and the summer lies ahead. And so, on this Wednesday morning, you get up early in the morning and go out for a drive in your car, because you like that, it’’s fun. You drive along a little country road, the top of your car down, and you feel the chili of the early morning air , as the wind blows all around you. You feel the chill in your neck and behind your ears, but the sun is getting higher in the sky; it will be warmer soon. You feel your hair being blown in a thousand directions, and that’’s fine. It’’s good to feel the long brown hair blowing around your ears, it’’s good sometimes to look down onto the road next to your car and see the shadow of the car, with you inside, and your hair blowing in the wind. You drive through patches of sunlight and shade; the air is dry, so you feel the difference. And you feel free, being free. It is hard to be free. It is probably one of the hardest things in the world, because the world doesn’’t leave much room for freedom. There isn’’t much space given you, there aren’’t many people around you who are free. Everyone has miles to go and things to do, and the world catches you up, it carries you along, it doesn’’t give you much room. But it’’s also so easy to be free. Being free is probably one of the easiest things in the world, too, only almost nobody realizes it. Because we are free: we were born free, we live free, and we will die free. Only we don’’t realize it. There is always so much going on, perhaps, always so much to do, that we never stop and look at what’’s happening. Until some day, some Wednesday morning in early June, when you get up in the morning when it’’s still chilly and you go for a drive in your car, along a country road, through little towns, past little homes and farmhouses, and suddenly you realize it, you know it: you are free, free always, free forever. That is all it takes. You like to drive, you like driving your little sports car with the top down, and that’’s all it takes. And you find yourself getting high, as. high as the sky, because it is wonderful to be there, in that time and in that place, and you would exchange it for none other. You feel elated just by driving, and you begin to think that maybe they’’re all wrong, maybe all the ones who have taught you are wrong. Because they’’ve taught you that what goes up always comes down. That’’s physics, after all, that’’s science and knowledge, and when an apple falls from a tree, it’’s going to hit someone who’’s sitting beneath. That’’s the way things are. But you begin to wonder. Maybe things don’’t have to be that way. Maybe it’’s possible to go up and never come down, to stay up, to be always up, to be always elated. Maybe there is a place there, a place that the birds know, a place which men have reached for. Maybe it really does exist, and if you could find it you would never leave, you would never need to leave or want to leave, because the place is perfect and you feel wonderful there. So you drive along, out driving just for the fun of driving, and then maybe you say to yourself, "The hell with that place, things are fine here. I like it here. "For you feel good, there, feel good driving along, and you think you could probably feel good any place doing anything. The hell with the birds, let them have their place, because you’’ve got yours, and you like it fine. The hell with wondering and worrying. School’’s out, it was out five days ago, you’’ve passed your exams, so you don’’t need to worry again for three months. It’’s the summer now, the beginning of the summer. It’’s a beautiful day, and you don’’t need anything more. Except maybe a little music, so you turn on the radio. It’’s warmer now, it’’s just right, and the air that flows over these hills, past these homes and farmhouses, and down these country roads, the air is fresh and clean. The author feels it is a beautiful day, though it is windy, because he/she has passed his/her exams.