Beacons Beckon.

I decided to take a different route to work tonight; the old route was just getting a little too pat, ya know?

And, as the saying goes, "it's not the destination, but the journey."

And as I was driving through the Capitol City of the Northern State, through it's reasonably quiet streets, I saw something that started me down a mental road that was much different and much more fun than the one I was on......

A porch light. A simple porch light; a beacon in the dark.

It took me to the usual places......there was always something comforting and inviting about a porch light in the depths of the Cedar forest; largely because it was a well known fact that porch lights chased away bears and pumas.

The golden light of the porch light was an indication of journey's end, in a way, and far more welcoming than any welcome mat. You could always find your way home.

Of course, if you were on a date, they were the bane of existence. Who could properly provide a hearty 'good evening' to one's date in the all-seeing light of the porch? A hearty handshake was the sentence for the timid; but fortune favors the brave, so they say.....

Susan Murphy. My first porch light. She provided a kind of psychic earthquake I felt for many years afterward. But even in those days, I had an idea of who I was, and she wanted something else. The first time I heard the, "I want you, but I need him" speech.

I heard the "I need you, but I want him" speech, as well. I was ever the opposite of what was wanted/needed. My lot.

My mind wandered all about as I traveled to the office, to places and people, all in the lovely illumination of that one porch light, with the memory of a summer breeze bringing just a hint of the aroma of rain, the crickets chirping their night-time song; the sound of the ice tinkling in the glass. The flicker of the last cigarette.

But the phrase that kept running through the event was this:

I miss you.