23 Sep There and back again*
The trip eastward flew by. Miles of road unspooled under the tires, and the whole journey became a series of snapshots: blink and you’re in a new state. A new geography.
Camping in Montana, we met a hillbilly wizard wearing a homemade robe that had been a Hudson’s Bay blanket in its first life. He brought gifts of beer, and shared visions of comets.
Yellowstone was like a breathtaking visit to the underworld. Nature at her strangest and finest: boiling caldrons of mud, spectacular geysers, stinking sulphur pools, bison herds grazing in lush meadows, pristine mountain views.
We drove through long South Dakota days, scenery empty of human habitation. The landscape and people’s vowels flattened out. The ocean receded and the Great Lakes drew near.
We saw family – brothers, parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins – and I realized there is never enough time to spend with those you love and who live far away. Sometimes it takes a while, years even, to realize that distance is irrevocable.
And now, Toronto.
* with apologies to The Hobbit