Each drive to and from Kentucky takes on a character of its own. Yesterday's began with wet roads and misty mountains — but it didn't stay that way.
One minute I was in sunlight and the next in shadow. One moment wearing sunglasses and the next not. A brisk breeze blew in from the west, sent leaves flying across the interstate asphalt. Flocks of birds wheeled in the wind, swirling and dipping and looking not unlike those spinning leaves.
I drove in and out of rain, in and out of radio contact, in and out of cruise control. I looked for a lesson in the changeability, and it wasn't hard to find.
This will pass, that will pass. Everything will pass. As I write these words, what started as a gray day has suddenly turned sunny.