Soaring

Yesterday was a day I felt propelled by some force other than BP gas. All day the sky filled with moisture painting pictures from white fluffy puffs on clear blue canvas to as the day grew to peachy glow on gray-blue shades of air. Ohio state route 14 from Columbiana to Salem took me back in time. The curvy road through the dark green shade of many trees felt primal. I'm not sure if it is because one of the towns I drove through was Washingtonville, but I felt transported to some 200 years ago, traveling with settlers. I believe Washington slept here, maybe surveying.
The Lisbon road portrayed the mixture of new and old. Stone houses reminded me of eastern Pennsylvania. Then I'd come across modern houses. McMansions verses shacks.
I felt the little green bug could have levitated on my pleasure. Look, a corner store for ice cream at a middle of nowhere crossroads. Over there- a placard with bold black HONEY and arrow pointing in a direction I can't go. And more intense sign for an orchard. All waiting for another day.
The columns of clouds grew minute by minute. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a fat, big, chubby baby laying on his back reaching for his toes in the pink hues. The sky grows darker, but I'm almost home. I expect a storm, but the wind has blown away the clouds and moisture, providing a clear sky by evening. Just as my melancholy mood has evaporated as quickly as it seemed to come.