The road finally reopened yesterday afternoon. After days of steady rain, the rivers finally converged over the road, necessitating a detour around my standard route to work. My attitude about the prohibited drive has not been very good. For one thing, the usual route is direct, and I felt seriously put upon to drive the long way around. For another, the usual route is a beautiful drive. On one side is the lake, mysterious each morning beneath its rising mist; ringed by energetic walkers and bicyclists. On the other side of the road is a park and arboretum with its crab apple blossoms just popping into brilliance. I've resented missing even a single stage of that unfolding. Inconvenienced and aesthetically deprived, I railed against the water, railed against the city for building such a vulnerable thruway, railed against road crews for not imagining a way to simply clear the water with some giant, vacuum-equipped squeegee.
Yes, I know: "Stop your whining." But who said aggravation was rational?
And then suddenly it was gone. Driving home after church yesterday I arrived at the now-familiar barricades only to find them pulled to the side, the road reopened. Continuing forward, I moved at a snail's pace, feeling afresh the wonder of each tree, each blossom, each ripple on the water; surveying the pavement for signs of damage; relishing the passage as if for the very first time; feeling smug at the straight shot home.
But here is the perversity: at the very same time I found myself wondering what was happening along the detour route that had, over the past few days, become newly familiar. Now free to drive where I choose, I wonder if I will sink again into my unvarying rut, or if the few days' inconvenience will teach me that there is a whole world out there between points "A" and "B", and while the shortest route may be the best choice when time is of the essence, there is nothing to stop me from exploring -- willfully taking the long way...
...just to see what I might see.
Yes, I know: "Stop your whining." But who said aggravation was rational?
And then suddenly it was gone. Driving home after church yesterday I arrived at the now-familiar barricades only to find them pulled to the side, the road reopened. Continuing forward, I moved at a snail's pace, feeling afresh the wonder of each tree, each blossom, each ripple on the water; surveying the pavement for signs of damage; relishing the passage as if for the very first time; feeling smug at the straight shot home.
But here is the perversity: at the very same time I found myself wondering what was happening along the detour route that had, over the past few days, become newly familiar. Now free to drive where I choose, I wonder if I will sink again into my unvarying rut, or if the few days' inconvenience will teach me that there is a whole world out there between points "A" and "B", and while the shortest route may be the best choice when time is of the essence, there is nothing to stop me from exploring -- willfully taking the long way...
...just to see what I might see.
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