It’s the Journey

I’m not a morning person. I’m not sure how well we’ve established all that, but it’s true. Owl, not lark. From the time I was a tiny child. I’m not saying that I can’t and don’t get up and go to work early in the morning, because I can and have, just that I don’t naturally live my life savoring quiet early mornings— I’m more likely to savor the midnight hour.

It probably goes without saying that I’m not a fan of traffic. I’m not sure anyone is, but I’ve often said that my quality of life is directly correlated with the length of my commute. I’ve lived in situations where my commute was at least 45 minutes each way, and let me just tell you, it wasn’t the nicest version of who I am. I’ve learned to distract myself with audiobooks and singing to keep myself alert and help me ignore my natural tendencies toward road… rage makes me seem violent, and I’m not… let’s say fury.

But the best thing, if my commute has to be more than 15 minutes (which it currently is, though not egregiously so), are the days when it can show me beauty.

I used to commute on a stretch that took me right in front of the Garden of the Gods, in Colorado Springs. They’re striking red rock formations right beneath the mountains.

Image copyright (THE GAZETTE file | CHRISTIAN MURDOCK) http://www.denverpost.com/news/ci_23378328/man-arrested-following-garden-gods-shooting

Arriving at work inspired is much better than arriving furious. Just in case you wondered.

This morning, there was fog. Fog, in the semi-arid high plains is pretty rare. It snowed last night, and will be too warm to stay, so there’s lots of moisture in the air, for once. My commute depends on traffic, but some mornings, rather than highway driving and cursing traffic, I get routed up through a park. I went that way, this morning, into dense fog. Halfway through the park, the fog cleared to beautiful vistas, but what I couldn’t have predicted was that, as I prepared to exit the park and headed back into the fog bank, it would get more beautiful, still. Morning frosted in white, shrouded in mist, with a stoic white-yellow sun… it was magical. My pictures mostly have my thumb in them (I was driving. I really ought not to have been taking pictures), but I think I know what I’ll be painting next…

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