Driving back from Portland late yesterday, we stopped at St. John’s Catholic Church in Brunswick for our dinner. A shady grove of trees, an old picnic table, strong NW breezes and deep shadows were our companions.
Max ate first, then I sat to have my delicious sandwich, chips, and root beer. As I ate, occasionally sharing a cucumber slice with my curly-headed boy, I was appreciating how well he behaved.
Sitting to my left in that regal position that seems to be bred into poodles, he patiently waited for any little nibble I might had him. Of course, when I was done and we took a little walk, he lost all his restraint, leaping up on me, nipping at my sweater, barking when I reproached him.
I do have to remember that he’s only six months old – a baby in an adolescent body. With the occasional adolescent’s sense of attitude.
Driving Route 3 to Belfast, the pre-sunset light was amazing. Long ground shadows gave way to golden light on the treetops at the far edges of fields. By the time I remembered I had a camera with me, all the light had faded. It‘s been so many years since I was “camera conscious,” that realize I must start carrying it on the front seat – in plain view, so I will remember to reach for it when those magic moments take my breath away.
On the home side of Belfast, I saw an airstream headed south – Million Dollar Roadtrip was written on its side, along with the website: www.milliondollarroadtrip.com
The whole drive left me yearning for the long road. This morning at breakfast, reading more of Blue Highways just reinforced my desire to make this trip. Least Heat Moon’s experiences, written so beautifully, are providing me with some of the best reasons to go that I can imagine.
So, here I am on August 7th, planning, plotting, dreaming… of the road soon taken.