The after Christmas drive is always an event strewn with crabby motorists, crappy greasy spoons only open because no other place is available and they’re looking to make a quick buck on the naïve and the desperate. Somewhere down the road an eagle soars, free, uninhibited by the holiday traffic…focused instead on a helpless meal grazing in the snow fallen fields below.
Rushing onward on this two lane road at 55 miles an hour, cooped up like caged lab rats who cant get along, while the cage smells of old coffee, fastfood and dirty feet. Some where along the many snow covered miles a singer on the radio sang about being ‘home for the holidays’ and perhaps “home” at this point in the journey is a welcome sign advertising clean bathrooms and fresh coffee, because at the moment this yule tide trek seems to never end. If I hear the phrase “are we almost there” one more time, it will be too soon as we count the endless line of naked trees along the silent snowmobile tracked shoulder of the highway.
Another round of ‘eye spy’? I don’t think so…but as these legs ache to touch carpet not supported by four rotating wheels, we watch endless small villages pass in the rear view mirrors with little hint of life, but for the slight wisps of smoke emanating from chimneys in dimly lit homes along this path. But for a brief moment one could imagine living there, hunkered in for the Christmas holiday. The glow of the television flickers as we pass, a gas station on the corner, with attendants at lonely cash registers stares out and sees us as we pass. This is Christmas…from the road…watching it come and go like the train on the tracks…on and on.
Have a safe trip where ever you may find yourself today.