Wildflowers

The road rises up to meet him.  Didn't some say that once? Or was it a song?  He's not sure but he's beginning to understand.   Road trips are nothing new. He's been on his own for hours at a time going to a vacation, moving halfway across the country, or driving and meandering around his town.  This time it feels different. 

When he was growing up he'd spend a lot of time on his own, looking off to the horizon wondering what was out there.  What if he started walking, how would he survive out in the woods? He'd fantasize about the woods craft and survival skills he'd need.  Later he'd think about where the car would take him.  What if he'd get in and start driving West, or maybe North? Would he find a random town, be a busboy or find random work, or enough to buy some gas and food and move on. 

When the stresses of his job would plague him he'd daydream about leaving it all behind.  Cashing out his measly savings and running off to  foreign land, or remote island.  Live a simple life, full of long slow lazy days. 

One day it happened for him.  He threw off his shackles for a weekend.  Drove East after a random invitation drew him 4 hours away from his town.  He was on a new sort of adventure and the road opened wide with possibility before him.  He was leaving behind everything he knew.  Everything he was told was the "right" way of living fell behind him in the hot summer air as he flew down the road, hands out stretched with the wildflowers as his only company.