The Unhurried Colors of a Horizon

Written 7/17/2008

I forgot about today. Then I started thinking.

Today we took it slow getting ready for the day. We had a wonderful breakfast of fresh fruit, baguettes, croissants and coffee. I took a hot shower and packed up our bags. Then it was off to the fromagerie and the boulangerie for cheese, salami, and bread for lunch. Then we took the metro to the train station, walked aboard car #8 bound for Zurich. We ate as we left the station and now are sitting aboard a fast train, zooming by small French villages as we go. The French countryside is a beautiful canvas of greens that seems to go on forever. The colors blur as they whiz by near the train tracks, but off in the distance, they slowly mosey their way across the horizon. For the last year, I have been living my life on the horizon line…slowly moving through life like the hills of the East of France. No rush. Just distance and time. Back in the “civilized” world for only two days, I feel the pull of the world on my body, heart and mind. The train zooming by, I’m sucked closer and closer until I feel like I’m eventually going to go under. I must keep my eyes on the horizon.

Pain. Lover. Feet. Sized. Staid. Raw. Ego. The boy across the aisle is beating his parents in scrabble. Good for him. I’m sure that’s all he’s thinking about right now. That game. Not the next game, or the next hundred games, or what he’s going to be when he grows up, or whether he has a job or not when he goes back home. As a boy, his eyes are on the horizon. Why would he try to pick out all the small details within the blur just feet away from the car when there is more than he could possibly see outside it? Why do I?

And I’m tired because of it. Even after three days.

Sorry for the rant. Just some thoughts.

Hope you all are well.

Yours,
Joshua

Currently listening to: Chris Thile, How to Grow a Woman from the Ground

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