[continued from entry of June 6]
Awoke three or four hours later experiencing a kind of creeping nausea -- nose running, system feeling a bit of whack as if a cold were edging its unpleasant way in. Opening my eyes to the room around me did nothing to help -- too large, nothing pretty about it, the ventilation system loud, the aroma of the canned air not exactly wholesome. But, I reminded myself, a place that provided shelter in ugly weather, that allowed me to get a few hours of shuteye. I had a car outside that would take me where I wanted to get to, I had plastic to pay for room, gas, a meal if I wanted one (and money to pay off the plastic). Blessings abound in my little life, I reminded myself.
I grudgingly accepted that reminder, closed my eyes, drifted in and out of shallow sleep until gray light began to creep around the curtains. Remembered the last time I drove the Thruway during morning rush hour hours, the road packed with semi's, the air less than pure from their exhaust. Decided to get up and get going, try to avoid a repeat of that magic experience.
Rain outside let up enough for me to load the car and get underway. The same 60ish woman remained working the desk, surprised to me again so soon. The same generous, heavyset woman remained at the toll booth, still doing the night-shift thing, now with a work companion who handed me my ticket. And when I got out onto the road, I found it nearly free of semi's, at least compared to that previous early morning drive. Flew north, two hours later found myself on two-lanes winding through green country, crossing into Vermont where round-peaked mountains reared up toward slowly-clearing sky. Made it through what passed for rush-hour traffic in Rutland -- wonderfully, adorably laughable compared with places like Boston, Madrid, etc. Stopped in Montpelier for a leisurely espresso pick-me-up, and finally, five hours after the morning's start, pulled into the driveway here at my hilltop fiefdom, sky not exactly clear, but not dumping oceans of moisture on me either -- back 24 hours and several hundred miles after setting out. A kind of trip that would have taken many days, even weeks in an earlier century -- now brief, fast, compressing a lot of distance and attendance at a major life passage into one compact package.
Amazing.
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After the long, long cold season months of grays, browns, dark greens, black and white, June returns and the local world goes technicolor.
Greenhouse, northern Vermont:
España, te echo de menos.
rws 12:28 PM [+]
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