morning drive across
salt marsh tidal flats under
live oaks spanish moss
Not so long ago, my morning drive was into downtown Atlanta, a commute rated in the top ten worst in America.
Today I reminded myself of that drive as I made my way to work on a island on the Atlantic Coast.
Atlanta was paved over roadways as far as the eye could see.
The road to Island is carved out of marsh grass and laid over swamp and tidal flats and over the inner coastal waterway.
The road to Atlanta went under other roads and light poles for lights that often didn’t work either because the city hadn’t paid the bill or someone had stolen the copper wire that connected the lights.
The road to the Island runs under live oaks and spanish moss.
It is a different drive.
In December, the sun, just minutes before having risen out of the ocean, shines into the eyes of anyone making the drive.
The going is slow and the road is full of cars but the amount cars, if you counted all of them, would total somewhere around 1% of the total number of cars that were on the roads in Atlanta.
With the magic that can be technology I can drive along with music playing in the car to match the mood.
There is something about driving along over a salt marsh and tidal flats and over water and under live oaks and spanish moss while listening to Appalachian Spring.
I don’t care if it is December.