Last night, we hopped in the car at 5:00 and rolled into our destination around 8:30; that's three and a half hours stuck in traffic, cooped up and going crazy from hunger pains and claustrophobia. When I was younger, I relished long car trips; when we made the three hour trip up north to my cousin's farm, or journeyed one hour west to my aunt's house in London I would fill the backseat with pillows and games and snacks. Now, I feel beyond restless.
On the plus side, we got to witness a breathtaking sunset and I took advantage of the photo-op. As we drove, I told Josh the old rhyme which had comforted me as a paranoid child with a foul-weather phobia: Red sky at night, sailor's delight; red sky at morning, sailor's warning. I remember looping that saying as I drank in the blood-red horizon from the passenger or back seat of my mother's car, assuring myself that the next day would be calm and bright.
(For the record, today is nothing but blue skies and sunshine!)
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