So I pry myself out of bed this morning, gather all of my belongs that I need for the office, and head out to the car. The morning is cold. One of those crisp October mornings that people describe in the first paragraph of some novel. I can see my breath in the air and the grass is crunchy and white under my feet. I go over to the car and crank the heat at the windows in attempt to melt the icy coat off of the windshield before I start my workday.
I pause now as the car sputters to life, debating going inside where it’s warm while I wait. But while the air is cold, it’s refreshing not frigid. I look out at the pale blue skies, the recently cut down cornfields, and the hint of fog that hangs in the air.
Once again I’m hit with the longing… the longing to grab the Man jacket that I own and a cup of coffee and sit on the hood of the car, just basking in the beauty that is the midwest in fall. The longing to throw a map at my Sammy and hit up a diner for some pie before setting out on a long road trip. A trip in which the only purpose is to enjoy the supernatural beauty of creation… together.
But the ice on the windshield has now turned to slush. I’m late for work, and Sammy’s a state away. So I adjust my sweatshirt, climb into my car and head into town. It’ll be a fine day… there’s just somewhere I’d rather be.
