Getting Around

Went to town for no good reason but to get out of my head and I wanted sushi for dinner. Stopped at the pub, for a beer and a plate of hummus with crackers. I hate salty tortilla chips. I don't use much salt. A young man came in, familiar, I met him years ago, at the college I think, Reese. He'd been off earning a master degree in geology, moved back to the area, bought some acreage out north-west. A comfortable conversation. The place was deserted, Steph the lone waitress, and Jason alone in the kitchen, when a party of twenty-five came in. Fucking zoo, but Steph handled it without absolute aplomb. Another acquaintance came in, then the drummer from the band that was playing tonight, to set-up his kit, and we all enjoyed another beer. Glad I went to town. The diversion. I still have a few things to do, move some boxes, pack my bag, but if I leave by two or three tomorrow I'll be ahead of schedule. I'll be away for ten or twelve days. It doesn't mean I don't love you. It just means I'll be away. I haven't been away for several years, I don't actually like being away, but I do like being on the road, once I wrench myself from the ridge. That last storm has turned the back roads into tunnels, the greenery is draped like a satin shroud. Even a single day, everything changes; spring turns to summer, soft leaves turn brittle and the wind begins to rattle. An off-beat drummer with nothing to lose.