Today I had a forty-five minute lunch. After warming up the dish I brought, I decided I would rather eat in my car than in that staff room. So I got in my car, turned on the ignition and headed for the freeway. I drove. I just drove. I needed to be away from, well, everything. I needed to shed my skin and simply be a soul. Windows unrolled, wind rushing over my skin and blowing my hair, I headed south, not really knowing where I was going. I figured I would drive until I needed to turn back and I didn’t turn around until a viewpoint in the Ankenny Reserve, one of the places I go when I need to breathe. I miss the mountains. Ankenny isn’t a mountain but it was the closest I could get to one today. It was the closest place I could get to that reminded me of who I am, an eternal soul loved and created by God. That is what the mountains speak to me. That is what I hear. I am so happy the weather is finally warming up to a point I can return to them and wash myself in their timeless voices.
