Road Angels

It feels like a month has passed at least, but when I look back on my journal entries it's there in black and white: Day 5. Already we've been humbled by the soft violet hues of Monet's Waterlilies and stood enraptured while a doe mosied through our campsite and been blessed by the guardians of the road in innumerable ways. A couple nights ago we heard the low growl of an impeding storm and despite a brief shower and campground gossip, two perfect rainbows arched across a blue sky to let us know that we would be taken care of. Angels have not only taken the form of rainbows, but of sweet Southern women with warm beds who we are indebted to. It hasn't all been smooth-sailing, but our spirits remain high as we're confronted with angel after angel, like Billy at Toyota who gave us free advice as smoke billowed from Mobdy Dick's hood. (Side note: Moby is our white stationwagon and the phrase "Thar she blows!" finally drilled the nickname home. We were tossing between Zeus and The Yettie before that.) Another angel was Wanda Beebe who made sure our stomachs were filled until the very end and The Morgans who personify the idea of Southern hospitality and keep it alive. Of course there's my constant angel (Eric) who is with me for all the highs and lows and who sings me songs accordingly. Last night we slept along the Mississippi River under a bloodred moon and woke for sunrise to find a flock of Canadian geese grazing in a field of yellow flowers behind our tent. We're anxious to plunge forward on the open highway toward Springfield, which is our next stop...

Love&Peace,
Eric&Bailey