A Drive
Went for a drive in the hills south of town last night. A little bit of free floating anxiety had made its way into the house and settled on my shoulders. I needed to get out. The sun had set but there was still plenty of light in the sky to see by. Lots of deer wandered the hills along the road, wondering, as they ate their evening meal, what I was up to. Not much I thought, just looking at the scenery.
My slow little drive dumped me out on 290 just before the road turns east to Austin, while it’s partner, Highway 281 continues south to San Antonio. I’m pretty sure both those metropolises will find their way up and out those roads to our little hill country burg eventually, covering the hillsides with homes, roads, and lots of lights while creeks dry up and rivers stop flowing because that will be a lot of flushing toilets. That’s for tomorrow.
Anyway, as I rode back up the big hill on my way back into town I happened to look to the left and the sky had turned all sort of colors as if the sunset just passed was saying, “Hey, I didn’t realize that was you driving around, and I know how much you enjoy a good sunset, so try this.” And then it smiled, and I smiled because it was pretty, and I took a picture out my car window because I could. And I felt better, too, as I made my way home.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale