July 8th, 2003

abstract butterfly

The sound of the freeway

I take my comfort where I can find it. Sometimes it's nothing more than the sound of cars rolling by on the freeway outside my hotel window. When I was a kid, we lived near the railroad tracks. I used to awake in the middle of the morning, to watch the passenger trains speed by. The track near the house where I grew up is now dormant, the railroad having pulled out a few years back. I hear cars speeding by, though, and that's a comforting sound, too. It's comforting because it's familiar. I look out my window, and cars are speeding into work. I've a short drive to my meeting today. I won't contribute to that freeway hum. But I do look at all the people going to all those disparate jobs and lives, and ponder, and reach no conclusions.