It’s not a statement,  it’s a question. I’m all settled in at this big airport, at the place I think I’m supposed to catch the shuttle to my final destination. It doesn’t arrive for another four hours, and when it does we’ll have a three hour ride farther north. I’m tired of sitting which is about all I’ve done since leaving home at 7 this morning. 

But, it’s been a safe, uneventful flight.  Every time I dig for something in my backpack I’m enveloped in this heavenly smell of essential oil that has evidently been leaking in there somewhere. And believe me, I am so glad it’s the one that does smell heavenly rather than the one purported to smell like cat pee. Small blessings.

Growing up, I had no idea that I lived somewhere called “remote”. We seldom went anywhere farther than our 60 mile trip to get school clothes in the nearest town with a department store. But school away from home changed all that.

 And as time wore on, the girl from the north, in school down south (Texas), met a man from the east (Pennsylvania) and moved west (California), before coming back home to Wisconsin for a few years. I live in Florida and am afraid to guess what part of the U.S. is going to be next. I don’t know whether to say the world has gotten bigger or smaller. 

When I fly I look down at the land below. Although this is a very big country, it seems to be pretty full of people. All the habitable space is divided up into squares or circles with clusters of dwellings at every intersection. At night, I see towns dotting the darkness everywhere I look. During the day we fly between cities so sprawling and large that it scares me. Our ancestors could not have imagined this. And I cannot imagine the future.

I guess I’ve talked myself into being thankful for a destination that’s still three hours from a major city. It’s gotten bigger (but not much) and there’s more traffic but it is still beautifully remote and it’s home to many family members and friends, making it even more beautiful. 

Two and a half hours to go… just sayin’.