This past Tuesday morning found me on the road by 6:45 a.m. Alan and I own a rental property that’s a
three hour drive from home. Normally, he
makes the trip every four weeks or so to do a monthly water test and work on
repairs and maintenance. However, he’s
currently working on a major construction project so, over the summer, he’ll be
there for about a week at a time. (Our older travel trailer, the Jayco, is parked on location and is coming in very handy!) I’ll
drive over to stay for several days at a clip because, although he’s handling
the project just fine by himself, it’s a lot easier when you have another set
of hands helping out. While a three hour
ride for, essentially, what is a business purpose can be tedious, I’ve never
minded the drive even when I’m alone. It
provides a quiet block of time for thinking or dreaming or scheming, along with
the delightful benefit of having a backdrop of gorgeous scenery.
Not long after I hit the road on Tuesday, I began running into patches of fog, some
of it wispy, some of it so thick I couldn’t see 100 feet in front of me and
some of it in the form of what appeared to be impenetrable banks of clouds
laying low in the valleys. Within an
hour and a half of sunrise, I was traversing mountains higher than the ones we
live in and found a fresh delivery of snow coating the fields but, luckily,
not the roads. Due to the crazy weather
we’ve been having (spring one day, back to winter the next), I wasn’t sure what
to expect, but the snow didn’t surprise me.
Here in the northeast, changes in elevation can make a huge difference
in the amount of “weather” a particular location receives. As I descended from the mountains into rolling
hills of farmland, a deep red barn with bright white trim caught my eye. The sun was shining here and the air (at 33°)
was crisp and clear. The barn, sharply
in focus, and standing in relief against the brilliantly blue sky was
surrounded by thin wisps of fog floating against the sky and the hills. It was, if you can believe it, both tangible
and ethereal, and it was a passing moment in time. I’m actually very mindful of those moments in
time. The exact scene that I see (in
nature or otherwise) at any given moment is a fleeting vision. Change in nature is inevitable and sometimes
arrives quickly. When I come across an
amazing cloud formation or watch an eagle coast into its nest, I feel privileged
to have enjoyed that moment of pure delight.
That’s one of the many reasons I enjoy RV travel so much – having
that opportunity to truly see and enjoy the blessings of nature. The region that I was traveling through draws
many vacationers - and for good reason. It
is beautiful country – God’s country – and the sights are rich and varied. The mountains, lakes and rivers throughout
have the power to soothe and restore any flagging human spirits and the fields
ready for planting promise a harvest that will grace many dinner tables. On a previous trip, well before any of the
deciduous trees had begun to leaf out, I crested a hill and found the early
morning sunlight hitting and highlighting the mountains ahead. “Purple mountain majesties” truly do exist in real
life and not just in the lyrics of America the Beautiful. While I do enjoy visits to cities of various
shapes and sizes, it is in the tranquil hills and dales that I feel most at
home.
This three hour drive is mostly on quiet state highways with a
couple of even quieter county routes thrown in for good measure. I don’t feel the need to make good time – it’s
not that kind of a trip. Instead, I’m
patient with the farm tractors and the trucks struggling to make a steep grade,
and will only attempt to get around them when I can safely do so on a long,
flat stretch of highway. It’s a drive
where the towns are small (some even without the proverbial single stop light),
homes are mostly modest and shingles hung on the porch or at the end of a
driveway proclaim the occupation of the owner – architect, contractor, land
surveyor. The signs for a charity
fundraiser and the fire department’s monthly pancake breakfast are posted on
street corners and I’ll bet the turnout is phenomenal for both.
I didn’t manage to solve any major world problems during my “thinking
time” on this trip. But I did give
serious thought to the fact that Alan and I are extremely fortunate to be able
to travel back and forth across this magnificent country of ours, through big
cities and small towns, experiencing everyday life in America. The beauty of our country lies in its natural
resources and its success can be attributed to its people. We are all part of something much bigger than
ourselves. I don’t think I’ll ever tire
of exploring, of seeing the sights, of photographing the stunning scenery. In fact, if I were to choose the epitaph to
be engraved upon my headstone, I think it would have to be, “There’s still so much to see.”
Thank
you for visiting today! Coming up soon
will be another installment in the series related to our first of three cross
country National Parks trips with our travel trailer in tow. With just one more National Park to go, we’ll
soon be nearing the end of that trip – but there’s a story or two left
to share and I hope you’ll come back to join us.
Beautiful country!
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