Tomorrow, car packed and loaded with dogs and people,
we will head on down the road.
A trip to visit family and friends
in the northern part of this incredibly long state.
Trips always create in me
some anticipation and some dread.
Anticipation for the times yet to be had,
people yet to be seen,
laughter yet to be shared.
Dread about leaving the comforts of
my home and my bed,
the company of my cats, and my garden.
However, once the open road stretches out before me,
I feel at peace.
My shoulders drop, and my tension dissipates
as the miles pass.
We take the state highways and choose to avoid
the interstate when possible,
driving through small towns that have seen better times,
past fields growing more verdant with each passing day,
over creeks gushing with last night's heavy rain.
The dogs ride harmoniously in the cargo area of our Outback.
Britt, my daughter snoozes in the back seat,
i-pod providing the soundtrack to her dreams.
The chatter from the front seat is steady and quiet.
Some of my most meaningful conversations have taken place in the car.
The stereo plays a stream of our most-loved CD's,
favorites that have taken this journey
with us many times before.
And down the road we hurtle,
toward times filled with music and laughter,
toward a place where change lurks on the horizon,
toward a future enhanced by vestiges of the past.
Back in a few days,
when you will see how much I remember,
and I will remember how much I have seen.
Until next time...
Anne
All images courtesy of flickr.
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