Today I was farm bound.

It was my very favorite kind of weather, cold, misty, foggy, moody.

The drive out there is a one hour, 35 mile meditation, a tradition dating back to about age 5. Once you turn off Hi. 601 it is country the whole way out. And while a lot has changed, it still offers gorgeous views as far as the eye can see. I soak up all the familiar landmarks, like my own personal historic markers.

Driving out there alone, on a day so easy on the eyes, listening to favorite music, I don't speed. I am in no rush for the ride to be over, my minds wanders to all kinds of enjoyable places. And it is like a ride, there are steep hills and curves, and somehow the drive guides your mind to wandering.

I headed back home just at dark. The very last sliver of light in the west is a little wisp over the horizon. Even in the dark, it is a beautiful drive.

I took my sweet time, coming back to boring old Charlotte which I am awfully non-nostalgic about for my hometown. It's as if traveling between the city and the Farm requires an hour adjustment period, so you don't get the bends, like a built in decompression chamber.
So I crank the heat up, roll the windows down, and listening to the early spring tree frogs chirp in the cold, another kind of meditation, another kind of ride.
Preparing to leave wonderland and head back to the land of traffic lights, discarded cigarette buts and pharmacy chains.
And it's still magic.