song of the open road

We made it!

With a song in our heart and a whole lot of giggles we arrived safely to our POD.

Tenderly, as we drove those many miles, excerpts from an old Walt Whitman poem danced playfully through my heart and my head.

Song of the Open Road

(Excerpts)

BY WALT WHITMAN

1
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

2
You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here,
I believe that much unseen is also here.

3
You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.

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splish-splash

I washed my car today.

Anytime I work on my car, interiorly or exteriorly, I always think of my dad.

He was an auto-body mechanic.

He was most respected for & specialized in exterior repair.

For a short period of time he owned his own automotive Garage:

Wally’s Auto-Body Shop!

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a-cownting

Photo courtesy of unsplash.

Then…

I passed a car on the interstate sportin’ a California license-plate.

Actually, they passed by ME speedily, which is probably what drew my attention to their plate.

What the fritoes!

Traveling along the Northwestern Pennsylvania highway a CA plate is not a common site in our neck of the woods!

After my initial shout-out I paused, offering a prayer for the occupants inside the blurr now long ahead of me, that they be protected given the speed they were currently traveling.

Yikes!

Personal note: You never know what someone else may be going through, which is why we should be mindful to pass around the fritoes, sparingly!

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