The Drive of Stories
In a little while, P and I will hit the backroads of our rural county. We do this often – this winding and wending through the mountains. We point out – “look at that barn” or “that house is gorgeous” or “the light on the side of the hill.” It’s our thing, and I love it. 
These trips feed my writer’s soul. They give me locales where I can dig out stories like an archaeologist. I find places and bends and the staggering memory of chimneys. For research or just my imagination.
So today, for my birthday, we head out again. Watch for Trapper the Subaru on the mountain roads. We’ll be the ones gawking at the stories.
May the peace of this Armistice Day settle over you like mist.