Big wheels keep on turning.

I enjoy traveling, I always have.

And of course, I would like to believe that it is, as all the philosopher's maintain, the journey and not the destination.

This is belied by the fact that Interstate construction ticks me off; or, more specifically, it ticks me off that people over-or-underreact to the construction. Just drive the speed they want you to, my friend...and we'll all get where we're going without rancor.

I like driving. You can see so much, even when you're behind the wheel. I like to see where people are from. I try to put together people's lives by what they wear on their car: the plates (the state their from; in some cases, the county they live in), the plate frames (where they bought the car, where they went to school, what sports teams they like, or whether or not they're a proud parent or grandparent of an honor student), bumper stickers ("you can have my gun when you pry it out of my cold, dead hands" is making a comeback), or other stickers tell much about the driver. And then, whatever you can see in the car itself: child seats, groceries, dogs, cats.....children and how many. And then, the driver.

I like giving kudos to drivers when I'm on the road. If they have a nice car, if I catch their eye, I let them know my admiration for their ride. I NEVER try to correct bad behavior...that way leads to madness. Usually somebody ELSE'S madness. And that's unpredictable.

You miss a lot on Interstates that you can see on State and County roads; but, along the Interstates in this Northern area....you can see some pretty cool stuff.

The way a farming community comes up along the road; huge houses on large tracks of land, in various states of decay. The house is sometimes in disarray, but the equipment is always shiny. The silos stand tall in the against the morning sky. And when the sun hits the highest part of the town (usually a bright white church spire) it's what Norman Rockwell always told me it would be like.

You would be amazed how many old cemeteries are built on the sides of hills.

Aside from the quaintness of the small community, there is, to me, some comfort in the crossroads, as well. It's probably the broad education I received as a younger Historiclemo: I spent half my life in the suburbs, and half of it in the rural communities of the Central Mitten. I like the small towns, but I'm also enamored of the bright lights of the Interstate crossroad...arc lights.....huge stores and fast food places with their colorful lights. Some call it blight. I don't.

I love driving by a ball park or a playing field as the sun comes down and the lights come up. It doesn't matter whether it's a Major League ball park or a Friday night High School football game. I roll down the window in the hopes that I can get a whiff of the air, or a cheer for the home team.

I'm traveling now, if you haven't guessed; and this morning, there came a cool rain. I sat at the window with my cuppa coffee and simply...watched the rain fall.

My mind is quiet.

Sigh.