The Little Things

Just last night I was coming home from church and driving due west, right into the sun. The sky looked like a washboard of clouds with sunlight streaming down them, all orange and red and yellow, like that pillar of fire that led the Israelites. It was such a perfect rectangular shape, kind of opening towards the top and flanked by darker clouds - it looked like an extention of the road, giving the illusion that if I drove straight ahead long enough, I could just drive straight onto it and keep going, up and up to wherever it ends in the sky. I told the kids to look at it, and at first they didn't see anything, but once I pointed it out to them, they had pretty much the same reaction, sharing what they thought it looked like, what they thought it meant. Then after five minutes or so of discussion, I think the very realness and transitory nature of it set in on us. We drove the rest of the way west before we had to turn, at least another fifteen minutes, all of us in silence. I've learned to make mental pictures of beautiful things just like that one, to remember and fall back into when life isn't nearly so beautiful.

Then we turned south on the highway, driving at a nice clip, which was just enough above the speed limit for me to feel like I'm getting somewhere, but not so much that I couldn't get back under the limit immediately if a cop appeared. Suddenly, the old, red pickup truck in front of me swerved, hit a huge piece of tire (must have been the whole thing), and kicked it up in the air straight at my windshield. I was in the far right lane, and didn't have much time to react as the airborne debris barrelled straight at my head. I had enough sense, at least, to swerve right onto the shoulder instead of left into traffic, but I couldn't get over far enough. The two-foot long strip of tire hit my left side mirror, taking it almost completely off, and scaring the life out of my kids. For the next few minutes, I cursed the driver for kicking up the tire, cursed the person who had chosen to drive on a tire so worn that it had peeled away from the wheel like a candy wrapper, and cursed the road crews for not clearing the highway of such dangerous traps.

And that's the thing. Within thirty minutes, two visions had been thrust upon me. Two very different objects had forced their way into my field of vision and etched themselves in my memory. I hadn't asked for either one, but they had both made an impact on me. And for at least fifteen minutes, I chose to focus on the wrong one. After I calmed down, I relaxed myself and remember the beautiful sky, and chose to be happy about the fact that the tire hadn't come straight through the window and taken us out, and the fact that for once in my life I actually have enough money in the bank that I can take care of a problem like this right away, instead of driving around with the car like that for weeks or months.

And now today is another day, with another set of possibilities, and I'm looking for another beautiful sky.