I awake the last day at Lake Brownwood, take down the curtains to observe. The purple, pink hazy sky seems to be sad to see me go. I have juggled with the weather app on my iPhone for days, not sure if I would wake up to torrential rain as once predicted and decided to leave the bike and camping chair outside the door instead of the van, to give me a bit more room to pee. I realize that the haze is not because it is going to rain, but that the sun has not risen. It peeks between a streak of clouds over the horizon, over the rippling lake and shines through my side window. Rays peek through the clouds as its lifts its head and illuminates the once dark space around me. It seems to be saying, ” Go, my friend, come rain or shine I will always rise as will you. We will greet each adventure together, though you are traveling alone you will never be lonely, I, and the many that God has set along your way will see to it.” It soon disappears above the anticipated ceiling of clouds as I put down my writing and pack those last few things. It arrives again, more forceful so that I have to get my sunglasses and hat. But I hear it say “ Your adventure has just begun.”
Pusche