May 30, 2006
May Day, 2/4
The sun had soaked into my back. My shoulders were sore. My hands were tired. My father sat shot gun. the windows were open. the gravel creaked and purred under he fenders as i drove through the evening.
And there on a back road under the hemlock trees, for just a moment, i did not think about god. i dod not think about war. I did not think about death, nor nuclear proliferation, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, nor IED;s. not refugees. not web 2.0 nor growing old. Not drying times for wood stain on cabin logs.
I did not do any time zone adjustments in my head. I was on this continent. I was in this life. I was in this body. I was in this time.
I drove ahead, and for a fleeting glimpse through the dusk sifting through the trees, and somewhere within track 12 of Josh Ritter's "The Animal Years", i felt the faint glimpse of peace.
