I take to the open road

I was supposed to leave tomorrow for Massachusetts and the Farm, but winter storm Draco (Malfoy) is headed our way and so I am leaving early, taking to the open road. I pray that no matter how old, how crooked, how arthritic, I never forget or lose this love of the open road; this dog-like desire to bounce on the seat, stare out the window, breathe in the changing smells--tongue lolling in excitement. I don't want to lose this desire to see towns, cities, lonely country unfolding in front of me; to go over the bumps of hundreds of railroad tracks and know the different journeys available in that too. I will keep this need to look for familiar signs and traces of roads I've traveled on, walked on, lived on. I will never lose the appreciation of what it means to add seconds, minutes, and hours--a math sum of home.

I am so excited to get back to the Farm; to spend Christmas with my dear Farm friends; to again walk the familiar paths and roads, to see the animals and gardens. Can't wait to get home! As I take to the open road, enjoy this, Whitman's lovely ode to a country and its people:

"Song of the Open Road"

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,

Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,

Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,

Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,

I do not want the constellations any nearer,

I know they are very well where they are,

I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,

I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,

I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,

I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.)..."

--Walt Whitman

*This is only the first stanza, whole poem here.