Backseat Admirer

I’m not going to lie.

I’m bad with directions, and I’ll tell you why.

When I ride in cars, I always look out the side window.

I’ve done it ever since I was too small to ride in the front seat.

It’s just a habit now.

I like to watch the trees rush by,

and see flocks of birds weighing down power lines,

or rest on shivering ponds.

While it is not a happy sight,

I enjoy watching the gradual devolution of pasture

to gravel road to asphalt and then to cement;

mainly because it’s like watching the evolution of a town

to a city, in stop-and-go snapshot form.

In other words, it’s like fast forwarding time or rewinding it;

depending on which direction you are traveling.

On country roads, drivers and walkers wave hello,

and porch sitters share short stories through a simple glance.

If I focus really hard, at stoplights, sometimes I can see ants crawling around

or bees pollinating flowers and trees.

On long road trips, I can watch as gentle slopes ascend into mountains

Or watch piedmont turn to marsh and then to beach fronts.

Now that I can drive, I often go the wrong direction accidentally and get lost;

but the truth is, I don’t care.

I’d rather be watching life continue

then remembering where humans built roads.