Respite

The drive to Buffalo today was long, but nothing  compared to the trip to and from Maine. Traffic was light, and the weather was good. 

There was a scary moment when the winding mountain road we were on opened to a passing lane and as I accelerated to go around the driver in front of me, he slowed to a stop. A mother deer and her fawn were crossing just ahead, and we stopped too. No traffic could pass as they made their way tenuously to the other side, though my heart thumped as I measured the progress of the tanker truck barreling toward us in the other lane. And when the deer paused on the shoulder and seemed to consider retracing their steps back into the road, I almost cried, but they finally leapt lightly into the trees and disappeared. 

After that, I confess to being a little spooked: everything in my peripheral sight seemed like  a deer ready to jump in front of me. But the rest of the drive was uneventful, and we made it here just at 5. Heidi's brother helped carry our stuff in; her dad greeted us from the recliner in front of the TV; her mom waived off any offers of help as she put the finishing touches on dinner, so we took the dogs for a walk and then relaxed on the back patio under the awning until supper was served. 

It was a throwback to earlier days when we were all younger, but there was definitely something kind of nice about not being in charge of anything. I could just be still for a little while.