Denver, CO to Terre Haute, IN
The cats were already awake and staring out the living room window when I got up (the earliest I've been up all summer...!). Kaylee stuck her nose in everybody's business, received a swipe on the nose from Chloe hard enough that it made her yelp, and ran around the house generally getting in everybody's way while I got ready and B helped me pack the car.
Kansas was decked out in its typical summer glory, with green fields so lush that I wished I was an emaciated caterpillar so I could devour them all. The trip passed by uneventfully and peacefully, and I enjoyed having the road mostly to myself so I could enjoy the beautiful prairie scenery.
Mid-Missouri provided me with the gorgeous beginnings of an expansive, soft sunset:
When I was most of the way through Missouri, I became aware of these massive, mountainous clouds developing in front of me, becoming larger and expanding and twisting before my eyes. It was like watching a dance in slow motion, with purpose and movement and incredible beauty. I wanted so badly to stop and photograph those incredible clouds, with their fascinating shapes and patterns, but was in the middle of the highway and honestly was probably too close to even fit the clouds into the frame. One area of clouds in particular caught my attention, with an area that created a sort of diagonal spiral. The clouds reached so high into the atmosphere that they plateaued out at the top and reminded me of an anvil.
I was so fascinated by the clouds that I forgot to think about what might be beyond those violently beautiful shapes and forms. As I slipped beneath them, I waited for the torrential downpours to begin... but no rain came. Instead, as I approached St. Lewis, I found myself with front row seats to one of the most spectacular lightning shows I have ever seen in my life. I was literally immersed in the lightning for at least 30 minutes, throughout my entire trip through the city. As a child, I learned to start counting when I saw lightning (one mississippi, two mississippi....) and stop when I heard the thunder, in order to determine the distance of a strike. Many lightning strikes were about a mile away (I made it up to 5 mississippi), but several were much, much closer.
FLASH. Lightning.
I opened my mouth to count: "Wuh...."
KABOOM!!!! The thunder was so immediate and intense that it made the hairs on my arms stand up, and I could feel the vibrations of the air roaring through my car.
The lightning and thunder were EVERYWHERE, and I could see their reflections on the bodies of other cars passing by. The air was absolutely electric and my heart was pounding out of control.
I loved it.
The torrential downpour waited until about halfway through Illinois, which I appreciated as I was able to admire the beautiful Mississippi, lit by the electric sky, devoured to the North by a thick wall of impenetrable fog unpierced even by the lightning.
I was unable to take pictures of any of it, half because I was driving and couldn't spare a hand, and half because the animal who is me was too terrified to consider stopping somewhere and subjecting herself to this insanely raging storm any longer than necessary.
I do not usually borrow pictures from other people, but this one is so perfect that I couldn't resist.
(from http://www.stormhighway.com/blog2011/june2611a.shtml, a really great website by a storm chaser and photographer).
My parents said that the storm was so bad it actually made the local news here in Connecticut.
I was afraid that the earth was trying to wash me off of her in Illinois, as rain water blasted me with the concentrated force of a garden hose nozzle. Despite my efforts to reassure her, Kaylee is no fool and knew I was stressed out. She kept resting her head near me: on my seat, on the divider between the two front seats, looking to me for comfort and offering to give me the same. I was unwilling to drive in that storm with one hand, but rested my elbow lightly on her head and she seemed ok with that.
Day 2: Sunday, June 26, 2011
The cats were already awake and staring out the living room window when I got up (the earliest I've been up all summer...!). Kaylee stuck her nose in everybody's business, received a swipe on the nose from Chloe hard enough that it made her yelp, and ran around the house generally getting in everybody's way while I got ready and B helped me pack the car.
Kansas was decked out in its typical summer glory, with green fields so lush that I wished I was an emaciated caterpillar so I could devour them all. The trip passed by uneventfully and peacefully, and I enjoyed having the road mostly to myself so I could enjoy the beautiful prairie scenery.
Mid-Missouri provided me with the gorgeous beginnings of an expansive, soft sunset:
When I was most of the way through Missouri, I became aware of these massive, mountainous clouds developing in front of me, becoming larger and expanding and twisting before my eyes. It was like watching a dance in slow motion, with purpose and movement and incredible beauty. I wanted so badly to stop and photograph those incredible clouds, with their fascinating shapes and patterns, but was in the middle of the highway and honestly was probably too close to even fit the clouds into the frame. One area of clouds in particular caught my attention, with an area that created a sort of diagonal spiral. The clouds reached so high into the atmosphere that they plateaued out at the top and reminded me of an anvil.
I was so fascinated by the clouds that I forgot to think about what might be beyond those violently beautiful shapes and forms. As I slipped beneath them, I waited for the torrential downpours to begin... but no rain came. Instead, as I approached St. Lewis, I found myself with front row seats to one of the most spectacular lightning shows I have ever seen in my life. I was literally immersed in the lightning for at least 30 minutes, throughout my entire trip through the city. As a child, I learned to start counting when I saw lightning (one mississippi, two mississippi....) and stop when I heard the thunder, in order to determine the distance of a strike. Many lightning strikes were about a mile away (I made it up to 5 mississippi), but several were much, much closer.
FLASH. Lightning.
I opened my mouth to count: "Wuh...."
KABOOM!!!! The thunder was so immediate and intense that it made the hairs on my arms stand up, and I could feel the vibrations of the air roaring through my car.
The lightning and thunder were EVERYWHERE, and I could see their reflections on the bodies of other cars passing by. The air was absolutely electric and my heart was pounding out of control.
I loved it.
The torrential downpour waited until about halfway through Illinois, which I appreciated as I was able to admire the beautiful Mississippi, lit by the electric sky, devoured to the North by a thick wall of impenetrable fog unpierced even by the lightning.
I was unable to take pictures of any of it, half because I was driving and couldn't spare a hand, and half because the animal who is me was too terrified to consider stopping somewhere and subjecting herself to this insanely raging storm any longer than necessary.
I do not usually borrow pictures from other people, but this one is so perfect that I couldn't resist.
(from http://www.stormhighway.com/blog2011/june2611a.shtml, a really great website by a storm chaser and photographer).
My parents said that the storm was so bad it actually made the local news here in Connecticut.
I was afraid that the earth was trying to wash me off of her in Illinois, as rain water blasted me with the concentrated force of a garden hose nozzle. Despite my efforts to reassure her, Kaylee is no fool and knew I was stressed out. She kept resting her head near me: on my seat, on the divider between the two front seats, looking to me for comfort and offering to give me the same. I was unwilling to drive in that storm with one hand, but rested my elbow lightly on her head and she seemed ok with that.
Day 2: Sunday, June 26, 2011
Terre Haute, IN to Granby, CT
The first half of Sunday was a rainy, gray mess. Thankfully it was just slow rain, and I no longer felt like the earth was trying to rid herself of my presence.
Living in Colorado, most days are sunny and perfect. Experiencing a gray, rainy day was strange, and I realized something: I miss days whose fortunes are shaped by weather. Rainy, gray days are perfect for curling up with a book or a movie and taking it easy. In Colorado, I have the feeling that I should be taking advantage of being outside every moment of every day because the weather is so beautiful. Unfortunately, I think that takes people away from time to brood, go to the misty gray or dark lightless places within ourselves, to think about difficult things, and become a deeper person. When everything is light and happy outside all of the time, I think people just don't want to go to those places inside of themselves because it's such an uncomfortable contrast with the environment outside. I think that going to those places inside of ourselves, though, is what gives us the potential to become deep and interesting people. Those are the places that help form our drives and desires, our fears and the triumphs of things we have overcome.
Since moving to Colorado, I have felt that the earth there feels too hard and unyielding for people to grow roots. Colorado isn't the kind of place that gives off a feeling of "stay here". I have always wondered if this is why I don't feel that I connect with many people in Colorado, because maybe this feeling gives the land a kind of "surface-y" or "shallow" feeling. Now I wonder, however, if it's because as a New Englander I am well acquainted with the shadowy and misty places inside of myself and am comfortable with them. I wonder if I only feel connection to people and places who are equally comfortable with their shadows and mists.
I spent some time thinking about some things that my friend Becky said to me a while ago. She talked a bit about stereotypes of relationships that our society perpetuates and how those stereotypes are unfortunate because they cause us to form expectations of relationships that are unrealistic and simply not true. While traveling, my mind spun off from her point to think about some of my favorite Disney characters growing up: Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine. Independent, intelligent, adventurous young women whose adventures (or misadventures) end up landing them Prince Charming. What I wondered is, what happens to them after they get their man? I find it difficult to believe that any woman's wanderlust and curiosity would be magically sated because of some guy. (And any woman whose wanderlust and curiosity is so shallow that it could be magically sated by some guy isn't really a very interesting woman. :) ). I have admiration for my friends who remain intelligent, interesting women after marrying and having children, and I thank them in my heart for being wonderful role models for the next generation of girls.
Ohio granted me a reprieve in the weather which thankfully lasted all the way to Connecticut. I pulled in a bit after midnight and laughed at my ridiculous dog, who did her crazy swooshing whole body wag as soon as she saw my mother (whom she adores).
The first half of Sunday was a rainy, gray mess. Thankfully it was just slow rain, and I no longer felt like the earth was trying to rid herself of my presence.
Living in Colorado, most days are sunny and perfect. Experiencing a gray, rainy day was strange, and I realized something: I miss days whose fortunes are shaped by weather. Rainy, gray days are perfect for curling up with a book or a movie and taking it easy. In Colorado, I have the feeling that I should be taking advantage of being outside every moment of every day because the weather is so beautiful. Unfortunately, I think that takes people away from time to brood, go to the misty gray or dark lightless places within ourselves, to think about difficult things, and become a deeper person. When everything is light and happy outside all of the time, I think people just don't want to go to those places inside of themselves because it's such an uncomfortable contrast with the environment outside. I think that going to those places inside of ourselves, though, is what gives us the potential to become deep and interesting people. Those are the places that help form our drives and desires, our fears and the triumphs of things we have overcome.
Since moving to Colorado, I have felt that the earth there feels too hard and unyielding for people to grow roots. Colorado isn't the kind of place that gives off a feeling of "stay here". I have always wondered if this is why I don't feel that I connect with many people in Colorado, because maybe this feeling gives the land a kind of "surface-y" or "shallow" feeling. Now I wonder, however, if it's because as a New Englander I am well acquainted with the shadowy and misty places inside of myself and am comfortable with them. I wonder if I only feel connection to people and places who are equally comfortable with their shadows and mists.
I spent some time thinking about some things that my friend Becky said to me a while ago. She talked a bit about stereotypes of relationships that our society perpetuates and how those stereotypes are unfortunate because they cause us to form expectations of relationships that are unrealistic and simply not true. While traveling, my mind spun off from her point to think about some of my favorite Disney characters growing up: Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine. Independent, intelligent, adventurous young women whose adventures (or misadventures) end up landing them Prince Charming. What I wondered is, what happens to them after they get their man? I find it difficult to believe that any woman's wanderlust and curiosity would be magically sated because of some guy. (And any woman whose wanderlust and curiosity is so shallow that it could be magically sated by some guy isn't really a very interesting woman. :) ). I have admiration for my friends who remain intelligent, interesting women after marrying and having children, and I thank them in my heart for being wonderful role models for the next generation of girls.
Ohio granted me a reprieve in the weather which thankfully lasted all the way to Connecticut. I pulled in a bit after midnight and laughed at my ridiculous dog, who did her crazy swooshing whole body wag as soon as she saw my mother (whom she adores).
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