from desert to sea
in a day’s drive through one state
(miracles exist)
rainforests between
to prove heaven lives on earth
(nature is my god)
we found our daddy
after cherry shopping; lake;
beyond evergreens
a driftwood dinner
no one could have predicted
in another life
yet here we’ll find sleep
all together in one room
at earth’s clouded edge
The beauty of the road is so much more than views. It is the elevation loss and gain that sneaks up on you as quickly as the road snakes its way along the Snake River.
It is the surprise of the desert that has made its rural-America mark in southeastern Oregon.
It is the spontaneity of stopping at state parks for a peek at history and scenery so breathtaking you feel you’ve stepped into a mini Grand Canyon.
It is the trail our ancestors walked upon that you place your weary soles on now, however twisted and stolen it may be. It is still a silent beauty resting behind a sleepy Americana town, waiting for rediscovery and firsthand learning for three young women.
It is the creek sparkling in the hotter-than-expected northwestern sun, and the quick dip that makes an afternoon sparkle just as brightly.
It is the curve that moves from summit to limitless landscapes, to the expansive end of the Oregon Trail, played out in a quilt of farm fields, and the hope they held for a better life.
The road brings beauty, and within this beauty lies everything you’d expect and wouldn’t expect: children bickering, bits and pieces of trash and clothing piled up in the backseats, state lines that bear no stoppable signs, audiobooks and downloaded movies, snapshots taken from a moving vehicle, trucks that hog both lanes, treeless mountains and endless vineyards, poverty and wealth found behind fences and up on winery hilltops.
The road brings more than views of tall pines, sagebrush-only molehills, and sleepy rivers. It brings us all a new world view where we search for ourselves and find ourselves in each other. Where children find joy in only their siblings’ company, where the road promises a pool at the end of the day and a reality check about small city poverty to remind us of what we have.
Can you see it from an airplane, from a train ride, from a walk down the block?
Never quite like the views you’ll find when you hit the open road. The views of nature, of civilization… of yourself.
You just need one set of keys, a whole lot of gumption, and a pair of soul-searching eyes, and you can find yourself a whole new world view.
Ingredients:
1 Honda Pilot, filled to the brim
6 cups unsweetened black tea
1 aluminum and nylon tent
5 down sleeping bags (that you’ll regret in bearing-down Idaho heat)
5 air mats
4 road warriors
Instructions:
Preheat summer to 98 degrees. Set alarm for 5:16. Fanagle three tween/teens out of their crack-of-dawn stupor. After emptying the cat litter, watering the lawn, and grading three papers, fold tufts of oldest daughter’s hair into two French braids.
Load the Pilot with said ingredients. Use whatever utensils are at your disposal to shift items until they snugly roast inside.
Snake through rush hour in two overcrowded Colorado cities; don’t over-stir. When the summer heat has reached 98 degrees, spin the tires on the open road.
Pause cook time just three times to add more fuel and remove unwanted bits from all ingredients.
If you follow these instructions exactly, you’ll be able to baste your finest cuts in the pool after four states, five mountain ranges, and seven hundred miles in just eleven hours.
Serve on a picnic table in the shade. Bon appetit.
cousins and sunsets
are better than fireworks
on a summer night
because the truth hurts
even in dandelions
invading our space
picture perfect day:
a family, a fish, a lake.
tell me what’s missing.
no matter how bright
this was bought on backs of slaved
and so it’s tainted
i just want these blooms
to carry me through summer
and buy me a chance
the youngest, oldest:
waiting for summer-lit time
to save this moment
just knowing the truth:
Coates says I’m a white dreamer
destroying black lives
so i can have views
that they wouldn’t be allowed
breaks my heart tonight
