Coming Full Circle

I have a car now. I love it. The mobility that it gives me is simply liberating.

I think that's the reason I like to travel. I like the sound of the road - the sound that different pavements or bridges or train tracks make. I like pull when I take a turn the way my driving instructor told me. I like the push when I remember to turn at the last minute. I like getting myself lost and then finding the way back. I like having my own space, my study lounge, my office, my inner chamber, my music hall, my mini-storage.

Saturday I went for a drive.

I went into town and found a park that is new to me in the village and read under the big trees. The old historic homes were sunning themselves while attendants massaged on new paint and manicured the lawn.

A cul-de-sac.

A dad was teaching his son how to ride a motorcycle. A troop of girls stomped and showed me their angry faces as they dutifully cleared the road, but they still giggled when I pointed at them with my tongue.

EastNorth street taken to the end will bring you to the Greenville library.

I chose a new road.

On the side of the road, half obscured by a fence of make shift signs, sat three children huddled around a glass pitcher and a stack of white styrofoam cups. I had to stop. I parked the car on a side road and followed the sidewalk to the stand.

"You want some lemon-ade?"
"You bet!" Each of them, A third-grader, her younger brother, and another girl assumed a quasi-formation as they each grabbed for the cup and pitcher.
"You wanna buy a rice krispy bar?" the one in the flowery summer dress said as she held up a china plate with individually seran-wrapped treats.
"Sure, how much are they?"
"Um, ten cents (?)."
"OK, I'll have one, thanks!" I could understand her confusion because several signs disagreed with her, but it was a great deal either way. I said good-bye after the transaction and waved and exchanged smiles with Grandma of the screen door as the young brother ran to her to make his business report.

I never imagined when I was their age that I would ever be on the other side of the table buying lemonade - and owning a car.