It was just another one of those blessings in disguise.
On Monday night, however, it didn’t seem that was the case. Listening to the pangs of gut instinct prevented catastrophe on the icy roads to San Luis and back, making the late night roll into the driveway a moment to give thanks. The moment passed quickly and the inconvenience the broken truck would pose in such a short time sunk in. No, it was not a blessing, but something more like the icing on the cake.
Tuesday morning came and it couldn’t have been a better day to depend on others for a lift here and there because there was no where to go requiring four wheels and an engine. After walking from a meeting to work, through air that actually felt warm because the chill is no longer record breaking, settling into a thoughtful day’s work was easily accepted. Many small tasks filled the void of driving elsewhere in search of reprieve or distraction.
Wednesday was quite a feat for not only did the day unfold without a hitch; it restored faith that had unnoticeably gone missing.
Tagging along with two impressive, aspiring young filmmakers, the sights of Creede were documented both on their cameras and in one passenger’s mind. Duty often calls down the Valley’s many roads through fields, rivers, mountains and miles of sand, but it is not so often the driver can absorb and recall what makes home so beautiful, so unique and so worth the effort to minimize the tragedies of the commons. Without the responsibility, there was no other option but enjoy and focus on the story. In fact, it was an opportunity to observe another who asks questions with sensitivity without missing the point. While the car headed back down the mountains and into the Valley, beauty kept the eyes steady while the mind calmly sorted through story possibilities and angles, preparing for the rest of the afternoon.
The Rio Grande County Annex wasn’t as full as it could have been when the decision to allow oil and gas exploration was made. After a long morning traipsing around the old mining town on the verge of revival, it was a perfect public meeting for a tired hand. When it was over, there was a spot in someone else’s car heading back to Alamosa, which was no surprise. After Wednesday afternoon, it was no surprise throwing transportation caution to the wind might be the answer to solving all the Valley’s conflicts.
In the 30 some miles between Del Norte and Alamosa, this time in the front seat, she revealed to her passenger there’s not much difference in the thoughts of a 30-year-old woman and one at least twice her age. Her curiosity in the future was as strong as youth’s interest in understanding what happened yesterday to make today so maddening. She told stories of her time as a teacher, a leader, and a decision maker; and, in the end, a human being. She talked of tears, misunderstanding, disappointment and lies. When the car came to a stop, somehow everything seemed better because the unplanned conversation was reminder of the people, of the American; and that those who work hard to contribute to causes greater than man are alive and well, but are far too often driving alone.
Getting there and back again worked itself out on Thursday and Friday, too. It was strange to see my Love twice, even three times in one day, and sad to know it was only to be that way for a short time because the broken truck is on the road to recovery.
How about we keep that a secret? If you’re headed my way, you don’t have to go alone. Take me for a ride.