Someday I want to get in the car and start driving, following the road to wherever it leads. Stopping when I feel like it to explore an antique store or a roadside "historical marker". Drive on open road, not city, with the window down, favorite music playing, savoring the feel of freedom and possibility.
I looked down, I knew it . . . it had begun to feel to good, my speed was reaching 95. I forced myself to decelerate as I headed north on highway 94. Where was I exactly? I looked around, finally a sign. Wow, really, looks like I was about to leave Indiana. Next stop, the state of Michigan. As I entered Michigan, I looked around, what was the first town? Couldn't remember, then a New Buffalo sign appeared. Veering across the lanes, I shot up the New Buffalo exit. Why not, especially since I couldn't even remember what New Buffalo looked like or even offered as a community. Excellent, an adventure . . . after crusing through the New Englandish looking downtown and eventually one of its residential areas, I now sat on Lake Michigan. The water gently rolled in and out as the sun slowly set. Children swung on the beaches swingset as their parents voices grew weary from repeatedly stating that it was time to go home. Young lovers were wrapped around each other sitting on boulders jutting out of the water, while others stayed in their cars listening to low music. All the while I slowly nibbled on South Bend Chocolates (local candy shop and cafe), marveling at the wrap up to my truly amazing road trip, adrift!
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