The Sun and the Moon
On Wednesday of this week, Larissa and I went to Portland to buy canvasses at A.C. Moore for a 70% off sale. We spent $300 to save $700, what a deal. Our journey into the Portland area met no difficulty, but we couldn’t help noticing the incredibly long line of cars traveling West as we went East. The time caught my attention, and it was too early for the increased commuter traffic, but times have changed, and traffic conditions in Southern Maine are beginning to resemble those found in Boston suburbs.
We finished what we needed to do and toyed with the idea of going to a coffee shop, but the longer we stayed in Portland, the worse the traffic would get. I suggested finding an alternative way home, and Larissa agreed. Our progress was initially encouraging, but that was soon to change. We were not alone in our attempt to avoid sitting in traffic leaving Portland heading West. I am always surprised at the substantial increase in traffic than I remembered from traveling our alternative way five years ago. The objective was to keep moving and arrive home in about the same amount of time.
I failed to calculate the enormity of the recent storm because at every intersection I had an opportunity to head West, the road was blocked off, so we kept driving South. I glanced up at the car compass to verify that in my attempt to head SW, I managed to take us SE. Instead of coffee, we had inadvertently decided to take a late afternoon drive down the country roads of southern Maine.
The bared gray trees and the stubborn oak still holding on it’s ocher and umber colored leaves warmed by the fading afternoon light nourished our souls. We left the woods entering an expanse of several hundred acres of fields, lined with stone walls and speckled with homes. Looking North, the moon was held fast above the cobalt horizon, and to the South, the sun flamed an effulgent subtle yellow-green glow that blackened the horizon.
We were witness to nature’s changing of the guard; the orb of the day to the sphere of the night. A camera could not record what our eyes did see. This vision of remarkable beauty stuck me to the core, and I saw all possibilities at that moment. That image remains crystal clear, and I will bring that picture to mind when presented with future difficulties. It represents my ability to consider all possibilities when in search for a solution to a challenging situation.
The way West did open, and we finally made it home.
