We Drove North

We drove north, looking for the quiet places in between.

We drove north, sometimes turned back by wildfire, or rockslide, or the suggestion from a roadside stranger of something not to be missed.

We drove north, unfurling that space within us that sometimes gets cramped, sometimes grows small under the pressures of paychecks and laundry and getting the dishes done.

And as we drove, we looked.

Looked at trees grown tall and rivers grown wild.

Looked at fish turned red, fighting their way home.

Looked at smoky sunsets and sheets of rain and bird of prey as they perched high above us.

And we listened.

To a loon cry over a moonlit lake.

To the power of water moving river stones.

To one another’s quiet whisperings of long held dreams and deep rooted fears and the soft spaces we carry within us.

We drove north.

Toward the wild.

Toward each other.

Toward the raw places of ourselves. 

We drove north.