The open road

Caution: take photo at your own risk.  Not recommended while driving.

One of the things I  missed most while living in Europe was the liberating feeling of getting behind the wheel of my car and just going.  Moving in whatever direction I needed to go, no timetables nor transfers necessary.

The open road.

It’s that space that moves your mind, that lets the thoughts flow in and out with the changing landscape.  It’s the expansiveness that surrounds you in wide open fields that stretch to infinity or conversely, the triviality of our existence being engulfed in a limitless dark sky of stars or by the imposing towers of architecture in a city.

I was moving on the open road recently.  The CA I-5 took me past a dust bowl of dry brown fields.  Once fertile ground to fruit trees and vegetables, they embody the grim reality of a desert climate encroaching upon a greater area of our golden state, a reminder that our precious water is on the endangered natural resource list.  A thick, dusty haze coated the horizon.  I see a disappointed Joad family upon arriving to this desolate stretch in their Grapes of Wrath. Perhaps the tide has shifted; will the high wages that once seduced migrants to California push them back to where they came from to seek better opportunities?  Nonetheless, this open road gifts my soul a freedom fed by the landscape as well as by the tracks on my stereo and the independence of a passenger-free car.

My return trip south on highway 101 was met with light and color and the elements.

The magical fog of the San Francisco Bay swept me into her white blanket as I crossed over the red Golden Gate, leaving myself and other drivers to ponder what lie ahead and to the side, as all we could see were moist white sheets strung in the air.   In the city, majestic kites colorfully flew in the Saturday sky.

Beyond the city the road wove past friendly bald hills, curved and smoothed with the passing of time, gentle crevasses forming what could be the toes on the foot of a large animal.  Whether hippo or elephant feet, they greeted the drivers that noticed.  I saw the green fields sprouting a late summer crop.  Weekend tractors plowing through their precious crop.  Continuing on, a prism of light caught my eye.  Reflected in the mist of sprinkler water,  extending itself over a long stretch of green growth below, was the most beautiful moving rainbow.  As my car traveled forward,  so did the spectrum of colors feeding the crop.  Just as it fed the crop, it fed those with their eyes wide open to see.

Movement along the open road.

Gargantuan bubble at Stinson

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~ by maureenmoore on September 21, 2009.

2 Responses to “The open road”

  1. mo, while i LOVE your poetic stories about life (our blog is so drab compared to yours!), i still have so many questions! where are you living? are you working? and, most importantly, WHEN can we hang out?!

    • jaja! ok, i will now write an informative and clear post, as you are not the first person to ask these questions! xoxo

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