My last few attempts to visit Mom and Dad at the family farm met with cataclysmic results. From major illness to drastic schedule changes at work, I feel robbed of what always has been a joyous road trip coupled with a dive into the depths of nature wrapped in a cloak of family love.
This weekend I intend to right that wrong.
In honor of my out-of-town Saturday, this series of posts shows photos which serve to remind me of a full day. (Two more posts to go…)
Even as the sun struggled to rise above the clouds blanketing the eastern horizon, fog slithered about the landscape, often rising like a cobra at the road’s edge only to pull back at the last moment. So many times I found myself captivated by the misty sheet that lay over the world.
At very high speeds I drove by and through marvelous wonders painting the whole of existence with brush strokes made of cloud. Spectacles to behold still beckoned along this concrete path, I knew, so I drove on.
Finally, as if on queue, the sun climbed over the next hill, showed itself beyond the next bend in the road, and it lifted into the sky the beauty of a fire from which we can’t turn our eyes. Clouds and fog be damned!
A thin sketch of clouds writ upon the heavens dared intrude where the sun intended to shine morning brightness for all to see. The silken veil stretched the length of the horizon, but it held no sway over the sunrise.
I drove right into the heart of morning, as did a great many others, and the indigo behind gave way to golds and reds before. Even those hues fell away slowly as cyan struggled to rule the early hours.