So Thursday a dear companion was under the weather and I happened into a coworker at the local grocers'. She invited me over for dinner with she and several others, and I accepted.I had a lovely time, but little did I know as I left her place that the best was yet to come.
Her place was a goodly distance from my house, and I set out from there, following the instructions to turn left, even though right felt the proper way to go. Soon I was driving down a lonely Texas highway in the dark of night, chatting on the phone to my dad about evasive driving should feral hogs cross my path. Suddenly the signal dropped and I was alone in the dark with about a hundred miles of open range to the west and to the east the middling city's lights reflected on low clouds.
This was the most desolate moment since I've been out here. I thought of nights driving through Dallas and feeling like I owned it, slick and new and concrete, and sparkling with diamond lights.
This night I felt like desolate west Texas owned me, instead, with its spotty blessings of dropped signals and wild bacon on the trotter.
Lucky me.
6 comments:
There's no feeling like it...you should try being at the corner of No and Where with the only barrier twixt you and all of God's little fuzzies being a nylon hovel and a flashlight. Good times. Gives one the overwhelming need to build a fire.
Miss Star looks like she's got some kind of altered consciousness thing going on. Which may be appropriate to the topic. When you get that night-driving fugue going, the miles separate you from the past, and you're not driving toward, nor away, but you simply are. Driving.
Thank you for this, Phleghmmy. See you soon.
That's the time to stop, turn everything off, get out and walk a few feet away from your car. It puts it all in perspective. As tiny as we are, we're part of it all.
stop it!! "wild bacon on the trotter"...where IS your pubblished poetry available??!!!!!!
you never cease to amaze with your sylings!
Those lonely Texas highways never fail to unnerve me. Even major highways have their lonely stretches and we've driven enough of them in the past two years.
There's just something wild about Texas that will never cease.
On a motorcycle that sensation of boring a hole of light in the darkness riding at night can become beyond surreal, especially if you introduce music to the void.
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