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.
