Happy thought #9

A taurus through and through, I find my rest in the simple pleasures of this world; nature, friends, evening libations, a comfortable bed. My morning drive is no exception. Drained from the daily road warrior commute on the interstate (though all things considered its practically bucolic compared to the commutes of some through smog-laden urban landscapes) I decided to change my route. I now take old "interstate" 9, a winding road that could literally take you from NYC to Canada if you had 20 hours.

In my little stretch, it is dotted with farm houses, a highway on ramp, some llamas, and the little houses that cropped up from the 40's to the 80's when Lake George was still a hot spot for summer tourists. It's all the things to be loved and loathed about upstate NY. There's the odd trailer park and junk yard, but there are also winding roads amid rolling farmland, green and lush, oozing with summer and the hum of bugs. To ride that route without your windows down is a travesty.

Sure, it takes a few minutes longer. There are a stop lights and depending on the time of day you drive it, a myriad of school buses make frequent stops for little feet scurrying from road's edge until hidden behind bus doors twice their size.

But instead of rushing past, hustling from one place to the next to the next, I pause and appreciate. I notice the cute green house with yellow trim that I imagine myself living in when I'm old and gray. I have time to miss the deer or the squirrel that darts across the road. I make note everyday of the glass shop with its Harold and Maude-esque glass and wrought iron kitschy exterior. Its a journey that feeds the artist and romantic in me.

Some people remember events historically, time-centered in their recollections. Others pair the flavors and scents of a meal with their emotional history. Me? I notice the forgotten details, the subtle footprint of something loved and cared for. It's all over the road. For each day I travel, there is a new detail to notice.

So my happy thought today? The warm, humid breeze hitting my face through the car window, bursting with summer smells. The Glass Shop, and the purple and olive light reflecting off its windows. The two little kids who hopped out of their mom's car and into the waiting school bus. The chartreuse/lime/moss-hued glow of the trees as the sun shone through them. The ride.