Yesterday I wrote about driving slow through the night, but I’ve even started driving slow through the day. It takes an effort, however, because it feels as though I’m hardwired for finding the quickest way. But lately, I’ve opted for the back roads and the side roads. The slow roads, the ones with twists and turns. The ones with things to see.
I’ve even taken to pulling over and letting the quick-steppers go by, usually in their big trucks, but not always, just anyone who pulls close and tries to sit in my trunk, sending their subliminal message of needing to hurry. And I try not to judge, because maybe there is a need, and what if there is? What if there’s a sick child in the back seat, or a parent who needs tending. I move over and let them go.
Then I drive and look for the thing to see, maybe a view from the top of a hill, or maybe a creek flowing by, or maybe a low water crossing over a shallow river. Sometimes it’s a view of the clouds in the sky seen at a distance, and sometimes it’s just the distance that’s worth seeing. Or maybe it’s something I want to come back to, for a visit, for a closer look. It’s a nice way to keep the world new and remind myself of the need to look and the need to see.
