This chirper was waiting for me when I returned from driving Max to Bangor. Nothing like a long walk in the fresh after a prolonged confinement in the rolling iron. I used to have this irrational fantasy about being a long haul trucker (seriously, but ha!), mostly, I think, just because I so much value my solitude. But really, all that exhaust and concrete is a fate worse than I don't know what. I once heard a trucker on the radio refer to trucking as a "prison on wheels"; then again, what about all that business about the open road? And, come to think of it, a kid I used to work with told me that his father couldn't believe they paid him to drive his rig he loved it so much. Where am I going with all this: nowhere; you see, it's just like driving.

Tonight, on this familiar dirt road, I thought about how very happy I was with every step I took. It's true, what they say, life is best when lived in the moment.