Interstate Dreams

When I was driving on the interstate in the rain yesterday, I found myself welcoming the downpour; everything about being caught in an early spring shower was arresting.  The stark contrast of blossoming green landscapes to overcast grey skies felt every bit . . . right.  I have learned to find beauty in the things that once frightened and scared me; somehow, beyond the scope of my own understanding, these things have translated into parts of life with which I identify strongly.  I suppose that is how one knows she is growing in experience and not being stagnant.

 

I'm leaving this city for a week.  Making my way down south tomorrow.  I think this is as much a needed escape as it is a needed drive.  Eight hours on the road, perhaps at times when it is raining, but who's to say it won't be beautiful?  And when I get to the tip of this here Golden State, I get to throw my arms around a compadre whom I haven't seen in over a year.  Now that is a beautiful life.

And eventually, in the [near] future . . .

(The Abbey Library houses 100,000+ books.  I don't think I could ever leave 

this place once I set foot in it.)

(Blarney Castle and its well-kissed stone)

(Oh, I jest not: my heart stopped beating upon seeing this Spaniard landscape.
How I would be forever grateful for an experience to write here.)

For now, I can wake up dreaming about all of it . . .

(Those are stacks of art books; more are stored in the cabinet, along with

the classic literature.  Now you can see why a library with 

100,000+ books captures my heart.)