Eiffel For Paris

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

We have arrived in London. The travel all went well although sleep is harder to come by on an airplane as we get older. Our friends and neighbors Jeff and Lori brought us to the Van Galder bus, which then conveyed us to O’Hare. Having traveled that route previously to embark on memorable journeys there is a certain nostalgia that accompanies the act of sitting on a bus for three hours. I remembered the trips to see my parents in the early eighties, with my ex-brother-in-law to explore the Egyptian exhibits at the British Museum; trips to Spain and Italy and India; the last time I saw my mother, the final visit with my father, trips with my daughter Livia and with my wife Cindy. So as we rode along everything seemed a little more profound and meaningful.

A stand of elms reflected in a waterlogged pool in a field of cornstalks

Road Ranger

Flying J

Premium chicken McWraps

Billowy clouds unevenly layered in subtle greys diminishing to the horizon

Stop Pay Tolls

We’ll get you there soon

Emanating light burrowing between the clouds/rays of illumination stream to the surface that we move upon/ we are both traveling on a linear trajectory

Super Values in the high 170s

The farmers’ fields go on for miles/there is a solitary oak one third of the way toward the horizon, stark, barren, arching, timeless

Adequate props

End of road work

     

 

Four hours at O’Hare, eight on the plane, then the underground to our hotel in Euston, London. Jet lag looms. We will rest.