On the Way Somewhere…

Missing from this lovely spot of ours is silence. The drone of traffic from I-95 just blocks away, is constant. The decibel level rises or falls according to the time of day, the time of year and the shifting winds. This is the sound of thousands of people moving through life on an American highway.

Yesterday, a steamy but sunny Saturday morning, the steady hum of cars, trucks and motorcycles exploded into the horrific sound of an accident. No fender bender – the explosion woke us and the wail of sirens continued for hours. Running an errand at 2:00 – at least 6 hours after the accident, I saw the strangely-bent trailer of a truck being hauled away. Injuries must have been dreadful and perhaps, someone died.  This thought lingered with us all day as we worked around the house and then blissfully went floating on the Long Island Sound in our kayak.  Who were the people whose lives took an unexpected, terrible detour this morning?  It could have been anybody.  Alert to life’s fragility, we move through the day into night, grieving for these strangers passing so close to our home but glad to still be here with limbs intact. Relieved it was not us.

PS: According to the local paper, the accident was triggered by a naked man yelling he was Jesus. (No one died.)

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