I spend a lot of time on the road. I must travel for my job.
In some ways the road is impersonal. It’s a silver slab of asphalt stretching out to nowhere in particular. There’s a sadness about the road. It’s filled with travelers from far and near. They’re not really here, yet they aren’t where they’re going. People on the road are short timers, they are just passing through. If you think about it, any particular mile on the road is little more than a waypoint, a stop over at best. The road is filled with people who are going places. They are on their way to where really want or need to be.
The road can be minimalist and utilitarian. Cars and trucks travel the road with little regard for one another. The road slashes through the countryside. It is a noisy place, an intruder. It is presence is marked by the stench of exhaust and surrounded with a constant hum. Day or night the road never rests. There is danger on the road. It is a lonely place.
The road is also romantic and magical. A pale gray ribbon stretching beyond the horizon, stretching toward home. The road leads to sunrises not yet seen and the warm embrace of a loved one. It can carry us to adventures. The road offers a sense of excitement on a journey to a new place. There is rest on the road as it takes us to vacations and a time of relaxation and renewal.
The road is a microcosm of life. The road is people. The road is me and the road is you.
In some ways the road is impersonal. It’s a silver slab of asphalt stretching out to nowhere in particular. There’s a sadness about the road. It’s filled with travelers from far and near. They’re not really here, yet they aren’t where they’re going. People on the road are short timers, they are just passing through. If you think about it, any particular mile on the road is little more than a waypoint, a stop over at best. The road is filled with people who are going places. They are on their way to where really want or need to be.
The road can be minimalist and utilitarian. Cars and trucks travel the road with little regard for one another. The road slashes through the countryside. It is a noisy place, an intruder. It is presence is marked by the stench of exhaust and surrounded with a constant hum. Day or night the road never rests. There is danger on the road. It is a lonely place.
The road is also romantic and magical. A pale gray ribbon stretching beyond the horizon, stretching toward home. The road leads to sunrises not yet seen and the warm embrace of a loved one. It can carry us to adventures. The road offers a sense of excitement on a journey to a new place. There is rest on the road as it takes us to vacations and a time of relaxation and renewal.
The road is a microcosm of life. The road is people. The road is me and the road is you.
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