just over there

We wound our way north on the Blue Ridge Parkway
from Ashville through North Carolina into Virginia—
adhering to the 45 mph speed limit
stopping frequently at overlooks and points of interest,
marked and unmarked.
Traveling less focused on where we were going
than where we were—
claiming the privilege of not thinking about our destination,
but the wonder of the present moment.

In Roanoke, we regretfully decided we needed to cut over and pick up I-81—
so as to get home before the early hours of the next day.
Even amidst the trucks and speed and rush of I-81 though,
it was good to remember that just over there,
on top of that ridge of mountains, hidden amidst the green,
there was another way—not as rushed, not as hectic,
not as loud, not as crowded, more natural, more beautiful.

It’s very good to remember
there’s always another way of being—
alongside our ways—
an alternative way

just over there.

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