The feeling came a few weeks ago as I drove along a back road near the Potomac River. I was in the lowlands, about to cross from Virginia to Maryland, driving alone during a day in which I’d purposely disconnected from email, Twitter and most things digital.
I think we see things differently on those days.
My car rounded a bend, and through the trees I could see the river. The scene was perfection: bare trees arrayed on a grassy plain, standing watch next to the Potomac. If I’d shot a photo, it would have brushed up against Ansel Adams in intent if not quality. It took my breath, and I gave thanks.
Soon I was on a bridge crossing the river and then into Maryland. But the scene stayed in mind as I drove toward my destination, the road now winding through rustic small towns that seemed to take me even farther from the office.
I’ve thought back on those minutes often as 2011 disappeared into time past. I’ve thought how I need many more of those minutes.