No obstacles impeded the last leg of my journey back to current home base.  Smooth roads, (except for Louisiana), moving traffic (except for Louisiana), sunny skies, and plentiful scenery were the order of the day.  When I arrived at the outskirts of San Antonio, my thought was, “Already?” 

 

Moving between 70 and 75 miles an hour doesn’t give one enough time to act on Henri Cartier-Bresson’s decisive moment, that one instant full of movement captured for by camera.  Mind can catalog those images instantly and thanks to the Voice Memos app on my iPhone, I can to. 

 

Flashes From the Road

 

Burnt umber cows grazing under stacked bright red Wendy’s and Big Mac bill boards

Pickups pulling crashed pickups with white letters “IN TOW” spray painted on the back

Two men, in camouflage, walking back to their pickup and trailer with a red plastic gas container

Bare-chested man and tank topped woman,  each on one side of the cement barrier, walking facing traffic on the right hand side of the interstate

Elderly couple, in their bronze “drive your living room sofa Buick” stopped on the shoulder.  She walking towards to trunk, her white hair and red cardigan beaming, he furtively checking the rearview mirror

Pickup and trailer loaded with sky blue port-a-potties, one tilted at a 45% angel in the bed of the pickup, three others strapped together riding on the trailer

Hawks sitting on trees, top of poles and on the triangular cut outs of a green alligator on a sign advertising an alligator garden attraction

Clouds resembling reclining human vertebrae float in the sky

Blackbirds flying and roosting as one on leafless trees; move to the right, back to tree, again and again

Grey and white clouds look like a Viewmaster stereoscope scene

Double height billboards advertising casinos on nine tenths of the space and providing gambling problem 800 numbers on the remaining one tenth

Highway patrol strategically positioned behind an overpass

Dead tires in the round, and left in blown out fragments unraveled and splayed across the pavement

Turtle tenaciously lumbering across the road, makes it through the right lane and half the left land, before it is nicked by the black SUV behind me.  It flies through the air. 

Rhythm and whoosh, moving the air molecules, the Prius flies, too

 

Earlier in the day a mix of R&B and singer/songwriter tunes fell on my ears, and fifty-five miles out of San Antonio the soundtrack becomes The Guess Who’s Greatest Hits.  In a reflective mood, yet reveling in the energy of a successful relocation recon tour, for me there is nothing quite like 70s rock, played REALLY loud to express a heightened sense of joy, fear, hope, apprehension, and love rolled altogether.  The miles flew and yes, I sang at the top of my lungs, right along with Burton Cummings:

 

“(No time left for you)
On my way to better things
(No time left for you)
I found myself some wings
(No time left for you)
Distant roads are callin’ me
(No time left for you)
You-da-un-da-un-da-un-da-un-da”

 

Arriving at my apartment, my cat Tortie, the “Princess” acts like I have not been gone for two weeks thanks to a friend who stayed with her.  I hope she is ready for relocation, sometime in the next few months.  I know I am. 

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