We went for a drive and you kept laughing. I changed into golden toe socks and we started breathing more deeply and sleeping more soundly. You said I was learning to anchor in more light. Then the birds started chirping. Then the birds kept chirping. We were anchoring in more light. More light. More light. More light. The drive took a while. We took our time. We stopped often and sat on top of the car and looked out at the horizon. My favorite stop was the stop at sunrise. We had been driving all the way through the night, two hours shifts a piece and it felt like the sun would never rise, but then it did. We pulled into a rest stop and caught the sunrise. We caught the sunrise. We got back in the car and drove fifteen more miles before stopping again for coffee. The sunlight was everywhere. We rolled the windows down. I used to dream about long stretches of I-70 across Kansas and into Colorado, or across Missouri and into Kansas. The highway stretches all the way across Ohio, all the way across Indiana, all the way across Illinois. The highway stretches all the way. You had this funny story that you kept telling about the Adirondacks and for a while it felt like we'd never get there –––– we left from so far west. It was really far west. It was west. It was Colorado. It was the west. We left from the west and drove toward the east.
No. 226 - I used to dream about long stretches of I-70 across Kansas and into Colorado.
Updated: Apr 12