The highway is alive tonight

It's Sunday afternoon and my car is pointed south. Tonight's path is about 300 miles and I know full well that work starts at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.  I can't help but ask myself, "What am I thinking?!?!" I'm doing what I love.  And I'm living.

The man on the CD is singing about the ball of flame that comes crashing down and I wonder, "Is that me?"  Based on this weekend, I would say that it's safe to say that this new path will surely drop my life expectancy by at least 20 years...but that's okay.  I'm doing what I love. And I'm living.

I could be home right now.  I could be recuperating from what has already been a memorable weekend, having shaken hands with artists with whom I'd never thought I'd speak.  I did not, however, stay home.  Already I have witnessed the golden fall colors of the vineyards. Autumnal foliage in California? Who would've thought?  Already I have crossed the same river many times and passed the oil fields of the south, the impact of which tears at the mind, yet the cyclical motion of the machinery reflects the light of the dwindling sun in a mildly enchanting manner.  The man on the CD is now singing about "saying goodbye world, I have nothing more to say."  But that's not me.  There's no question to ask.  I definitely have more to say to this world.  I'm doing what I love.  And I'm living.