i'm currently sitting on the front bench of a 15 passenger van, in the dark of the night, listening to Pat Benatar, while Morgan - clad in a red beanie and brown jacket, taps his hands on the steering wheel to a fun beat and Bailey - tangled up in the midst of wires, power converters, and the occasional cracker wrapper, quietly focuses on her the screen of a computer that shows a calendar.
this has become my norm once again. i don't know when riding in a car became a strong sense of comfort to me. maybe it was my first road trip to Dallas with my family when i was six. maybe the expansion of what this country actually obtains made me too curious to stay in one state. was it the bobbing of the oil rigs that caught my eye and lured me out into the road? was it the rolling hills and vineyards of northern california that told me there is still more to be seen? even in the flat, beige lands of middle america, i can see beauty in the simple (minus the cow pasture smells...yikes). was it the winding roads through farms and power lines occupied by blackbirds that made me drive farther, hoping to find the end to their waiting line that brings me back out here time and time again?
i dont know the answer to this. i do know that when i'm driving down yet another long and almost unending highway, i do feel a sense of peace.