The Lake

I gotta go back to the bus.

Driving home tonight was an exercise in frustration. And not because I was cut off, flipped off or turned off by any of the other drivers. The road wasn’t icy, traffic was unaccountably light, the truck hummed along while I listened to NPR on the radio.

The problem wasn’t that anything untoward happened or that conditions were less than optimal. In fact conditions were perfect. For sightseeing, that is. And there I was behind the wheel, coerced by the combined imperatives of self-preservation and social responsibility to utterly ignore the incredibly calm water of Lake Washington, with Mt. Rainier rising in the background.

I gotta go back to the bus.