Driving South

If you read yesterday's post, you know I didn't drive all the way south.  I drove to Virginia, and then I let Amtrak do some of the driving.  I took the wheel again in Sanford, near Orlando.  But it turns out the rest of the drive was the best!  Overcast and in the 50s in Sanford, my drive south got warmer and sunnier by the mile.  I stopped at two different rest areas to shed more clothes.  It didn't take long for me to roll the windows down.  (Never mind that pushing a button is different than rolling down a window; I like the image and the expression.)  By the time I got to my destination, it felt like summer.

And that's South Florida.  In a state in which there are places where it's illegal to feed the homeless, the climate is more than humanitarian.  If this is Paradise, why is there still poverty and greed?  And stupid laws?

I know the answer to that.  Because poverty and greed are everywhere.  Even in Paradise.  As for stupid laws, I suppose they are everywhere, too.

But wait . . . this is about literally driving south, not figuratively.

It is amazing that in this country, you can drive in and out of divergent landscapes and climates.  And I am in love with them all.  Admittedly, I am not a fan of cities, especially those that are crowded and dirty and architecturally impoverished.  But the natural landscape, be it seashore, mountain, prairie, mesa, farmland, or desert, awakens a spiritual appreciation for the universe and all its wonderment.

And so it is here in the land of palm trees and warm breezes and Ron Jon billboards.  (I am trying to love them.)  I know I am fortunate to be able to point my old Jeep south and go for it.  And apparently, I got out of town just in time.  The day after I left my northeast home, a snowfall blanketed the landscape.  That, of course, is beautiful, too.

But today I am in love with something else.  Call it warmth.