Rain evasive measures forced us on the road early this morning and moved us forward all day. When the options are to either drive through mad winds and sideways rain (rumor has it, a sort of drop-out hurricane) or to not go anywhere, I will opt for progress, even if it is tense-shoulder, white-knuckle progress. So that is how we have come to find ourselves already in southern Maine.
Our departure was quick and unceremonious, the midday border crossing brief and undistinguished ("oh, we're back in the U.S.?") as we moved from shades of grey to shades of grey...
I am resigned to my struggle to reconcile forward progress with backward glances. I want what comes next but I am reluctant to let go of the vestiges of former experiences. All day I resisted the urge to shake the red sand from my shoes -- the sand I collected last night as I walked this sunset, mid-tide beach on the Bay of Fundy.
Our departure was quick and unceremonious, the midday border crossing brief and undistinguished ("oh, we're back in the U.S.?") as we moved from shades of grey to shades of grey...
I am resigned to my struggle to reconcile forward progress with backward glances. I want what comes next but I am reluctant to let go of the vestiges of former experiences. All day I resisted the urge to shake the red sand from my shoes -- the sand I collected last night as I walked this sunset, mid-tide beach on the Bay of Fundy.
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