Since J started at summer camp, I have a new route from and to work . It winds through a wooded parkway and you drive at a languid 35 miles an hour because going any faster can make you a little dizzy at those sinuous turns. You slow some more as you near a large creek.
The water is still and a lustrous green. The sun makes the tiny ripples glitter like sequins on emerald silk. On the grass embankment by the side of the creek are large flocks of ducks. They look uniformly well fed and content. Sometimes they amble across the road like time would pause for them just as you in your car do. I make the crossing ducks my excuse to linger longer than I need to along the creek, slowing down to a crawl. The signs for the interstate are less than two minutes away from here.
The little slice of heaven between one highway and the next disappears like it were a dream. I have lived within a couple of miles of this creek for close to three years now and never knew of its existence until Mapquest told me it was the shortest route to work from J's summer camp.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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