from yesterday
Driving today out to the coast, I see the road before me, black, yellow and white. Straight ahead of me are hills, fading with distance and depth, looking like layers of tissue paper or ridges of watercolor flowing into each other. The green-blue hues, the thick of the forest, the bright of mountain white intensify the travel. I catch myself crying as I drive. A tear or two in my eye. Blurry vision needs wipers so I blink.
And I think. I think how the scenery amazes me. How picture postcard. A perfect painting. Frame it forever. Hang it over the fireplace.
But more than that: it is real. I am here.
I think about how the road at this moment seems to head into those hills. As if I could drive straight into those curves. I imagine driving and driving through the hills, going deeper and deeper into them.
I won’t stop. I’ll keep going. I’ll keep driving into these depths.
And the beauty will continue to unfold.
