Dharma Bums

Wake to the rumbling of a vehicle in motion, softly rocking back and forth across a mountain pass. Hours ago you stirred when the great beast started, quiet city morningscape giving way to the pine forest curves up north. The sunshine follows you as long as it is permitted, but finally must relent to the great grey blanket that is the Pacific Northwest. Somehow coffee is made without a spill; I drink great bowlfuls through the day, reading Jack's ponderings of a fire lookout and finding the ultimate meditation in monotony. The rain comes at last outside Lebanon but is unwilling to commit. Our arrival time moves slowly ahead of us.

You try to remember who you are even as you dissolve in the road, but perhaps that is the lesson entirely. Here is America and you do not doubt the ground beneath your steps. Do not doubt the beat of your heart in your chest.