Musings: Isolated Showers by LJ Frank

Source: Unsplash

it was at a rest stop i began looking through some old folders brought along for the trek, i came across old pieces of paper with writing scribbled on them…notes to myself…over forty years ago…jottings of thoughts from a man no longer recognizable and am always amazed how much people think they know about another person after one or a dozen meetings-exuberant in a now lost voice, the algorithms of the mind evolve, so i talk to no one in particular; 

people can live together for decades and not really know the person they work or sleep or study or travel with – how much does one know of oneself, for one might find one’s soul along with a diet of filtered perceptions, that the person in the car’s rearview mirror is not the face of the one you began the adventure with;

i look over to the person riding next to me who happens to be different than the one I started the odyssey with and in fact the passengers are all different at each crossroads i approach and move beyond, along with variations and size of the the potholes and dips in pavement while some days the asphalt of existence appear to be smooth, though to be honest the surface belies the course texture of the reality, if held under a microscope;

there are warm days when a welcoming rain falls hard and fast, clouds disperse just as quickly, leaving behind the smell of earth in the countryside that brings a smile to my face, the cultivation of soil has a rich texture on a small farm and adjoining woods lost when incorporated, even when wrapped in a package called organic, the actual state of things can be deceptive;

 i miss the trees i planted along the way, cut down by people that preferred a better view of their neighbor’s doings and machines could be made to cut the blades of grass rather than cultivating breathing, for coughing appears now to be part of body’s manual on standard operating procedure;

looking towards the horizon to gauge the distance of my destination i listen with windows rolled down as a large bird flaps it’s wings above the windshield and then glides to the masthead of an evergreen to survey the scene below, and i am not sure where this passage will take me as the electronic road map indicates a few more detours, so i stop by a coffeehouse to get my recharge through a straight up, light iced green tea sans liquid sugar, and then after a few sips i head back on to a detoured road amid isolated showers.