Hustle and flow

I took a drive up toward New York tonight, and it was cathartic, refreshing and challenging. There are moments on the drive where I was in the car and just moving with the flow of traffic, almost at one with it. You are a part of this great flowing river of metal, rubber and asphalt, going God knows where to do God knows what. Big fish, small fish, beautiful fish, ugly fish. All hustling somewhere.

I rode toward the airport. I miss flying--I haven't been on a plane in a year. Maybe it's the hassles of the process. But it doesn't diminish the buzz and the anticipation of going somewhere. With the sunroof open, I watched a jet fly over, about to touch down and discharge its passengers. Further up, there were jets lining up for takeoff, destined for locales close and distance, known and exotic. Turning into the airport itself, with its maze of roads leading to and from the terminals. Drivers hustle to find where they're going, trying not to get lost and avoid another lap. Most of the international red-eye departures are ready to leave, so the buzz has died down a little. But the anticipation of taking off and setting eyes on new places remains. So does the anticipation of seeing loved ones, friends, after a long trip, bringing smiling faces and news of distant corners of the world.