One year after we moved to Iowa, we returned to Boston for the summer, helping ease my transition in an experiment with two-location living that ultimately proved too disruptive and unsuccessful. At the beginning of that time, though, I started out alone in my car well before dawn in Iowa, with a brand new audiobook and a taste for the open road, to be followed one day later by my wife and daughter in our other car. The cool clean morning air drew me Eastward in a glide past clusters of sleeping trucks, bunched up in droves on the side of the road. Somewhere in Illinois the dawn broke out in front of me, and by lunch-time I had almost finished with Ohio. After dinner near Albany, New York with a dear old friend, I glided through the darkening night to finally touch down in Somerville.
No comments:
Post a Comment