When you see the masthead image for this blog, what goes through your mind? Dangerous driving conditions? The daily commute? The monotony of the road? Adventure? When I asked this question on Twitter about a month ago, those were the kinds of answers I got. And so today, I’d like to explain briefly what it means to me.
The image itself is cropped from this larger picture, taken by my brother. I was at the wheel of his Subaru WRX, driving on Interstate 80 in Nevada, heading home from visiting our Oma in California. We got caught in a sudden rainstorm in what is normally a hot, dry and cloudless wilderness.
On one level, this image represents some very specific memories. Looking at it, I can remember how tense and alert I felt on that July day in 2003. The sheer surprise of such a windy downpour. The bittersweetness of driving home after visiting far-away relatives.
And, like any good picture, there are also more abstract representations. Most important of these, for me, is that bend in the highway in the middle distance. That curve in the road that shows, bit by bit, what lies ahead only if you continue forward. Toward the unknown. And that same curve also obscures what has just been passed. You look in the rearview mirror and your past is no longer visible. The gas station, the rest area, road signs are all diminished by time and distance. A metaphor if ever there was one.
Growing up in a church community, I was taught to stay on the “straight and narrow path.” Yet, the more I experience, the more I realize that the joy of life lies in the curve. And so, for now, the image above will remain as a kind of icon for this blog. Driving on through good times and adversity, revealing in increments what lies ahead.
Driving will always be one of my favorite things. I keep waiting for it to get old, to become a chore, but it never does.
See the comment I made below yours. That was actually supposed to be a reply to you. π
I had the great joy of driving through parts of North Carolina, Tennessee and Kentucky a couple of weeks ago. Much fun, and all without the help of GPS.
GPS? Who needs it? π
Maps FTW.
Btw, love that photo π
I did use Google maps to get detailed directions, but then I wrote them down on an index card. π
That’s what I do too, most times. Though when I travel, paper maps are my best friend. No need to rack up huge data charges on my phone π
there’s nothing that clears my mind quite like getting in the car and just going. sometimes i’m tempted not to stop, but keep on, until i can’t make sense of the signposts anymore. i completely understand the lure of the curve. a lovely, and thoughtful, post. π
It’s a very real pull, isn’t it? π
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
Yes. That!
*sigh* Deeply dreamy…
Indeed. π
You apply the view of a road’s curve to how we anticipate and reflect on life. When I read your title, though, I think of so many other joyful curves, reflected in the image of your masthead. A smile. A gently beckoning finger. A glimpse of a woman’s hip.
Hip curves. Perhaps the topic of a near-future blog post.