4:35 am. Wednesday.
It’s leaden, and anchored behind the eyes. Throbbing.
I squeeze them tight. And exhale.
No. Not today. No.
I grab the Tylenol.
71° F.
The flirty British Lady on Waze calls out Let’s Go!
39 miles. 42 minutes.
Skies clear. Roads dry. Traffic light.
Manhattan bound.
Cockpit is lit with the soft glow of fluorescents.
It’s dark but for the tail lights from hulking semis.
Speed lane is clear.
I adjust my right foot on the accelerator. Flying on cotton.
It’s silent but for the soft hum of the engine and the faint spinning rotation of the Goodyears.
The A/C streams in at maximum comfort level.
Sir, you’re in First Class today. Our cruising altitude will be 39,000 feet and we’ll be flying 500 mph.
I loosen my tie.
And grab my water bottle.
The heaviness behind the eyes lifts. A morning mist lingers.
The tightness in the shoulders, the arms, and the hands – is unshackled, free.
The mind is clear. Light. The unbearable lightness of being.
The trucker traffic gives way to commuters.
I exit off the West Side Highway on 54th street.
I wait at a Red Light on Broadway.
Blasts, wave upon wave of blasts of light, wash over Times Square.
And here you are.
Farm Boy washed in light. In awe of the glitter.
And here it comes.
The other life inside of me.
Debra Allbery’s “phantom fullness I can never name, a quickening”.
5:47 am.
Game time.
Notes:
- Photograph – Takashi Kitajima
- Debra Albert’s poem excerpt: Memory Landscape.
- “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” taken from title of book by
- Related Posts in the Driving Series
“Farm boy washed in light.” I have felt that feeling … a farm girl in the big city. That commute though .. wowza! Beautifully done, DK. MJ
Thank you MJ. Appreciate it. Can’t take the farm out out of the boy and girl… 🙂
Thank you for this amazing trip. Can we book some more?
Thank you! We’re working on it. 🙂
Driving I-95 S – Is that near Philly?
I-95 S from Connecticut to NY
In the zone…cruising into the city to one’s own rhythm – until the city takes over and the beat is all its own
So true Mimi.
Amazing DK. Love the line about farm boy, this small town girl can relate. It’s like I was riding shotgun – very silently. Keep doing this….
Thank you Bonnie. Some how with all of your sophistication, hadn’t tagged you as a small town girl….
Now there is a compliment of highest order, thank you. But yes. ..grew up in small agricultural community among apricot orchards 🙂
And another farm girl weighs in with a hearty ‘atta boy!’ I have the same feeling every time I roll into a big city, DK–a quick flashback to the town of 3600 where I was raised, a ‘flash in the pan’ compared to the press of humanity that washes through Times Square. You make it all come alive….As Bon said, “Keep doing this….”
Awwww, thank you Lori.
Love it. I just can’t imagine doing it on a regular basis. Respect.
Thank you Van.
Love the descriptions of your travels, always feel like I am there. 4:35 am. Wednesday?, how tired are you by 4pm? 🙂
Thank you. Certainly, yes.
Wow! You fly on cotton and walk on air, David. It was nice to be in First Class this evening.
It was Helen. It was. Thank you.
Wonderful, commentary…esp..”Blasts, wave upon wave of blasts of light, wash over Times Square. And here you are. Farm Boy washed in light. In awe of the glitter” You rose to the challenge of life to get where you are, dealt with the eye pain and you are appreciating the awe of the gift of life…you recognized that moment of bright awakening…sounds like you floated on into the dawn of day’s Light with a Smile on your Face and Joy in your Grateful Heart…with Strength & Passion in your Soul, ready to Embrace the unknown…
Yes, beautifully stated Christie. Thank you.
let ‘the other life’ of yours shine through –
Love that you found the groove and the stratosphere that morning.
Thank you Sandy. Me too.