Road trips, I think, may be a writer’s best friend – mostly because they seem to spur that kind of reflection that doesn’t seem to happen behind a computer monitor.
Given that I was headed with hubby to visit my little sister in Flagstaff (five hours away), where she attends Northern Arizona University – I had plenty of time for reflection.
Mainly, I asked myself how it was possible that I was going to celebrate her twenty-first birthday… how it was possible that she’s a college junior. We’re not sisters by blood, but we are sisters by heart. We were paired by Big Brothers Big Sisters when she was in fourth grade, and I can’t imagine a more perfect ‘match.’ What age was she then? Nine? What age am I now? Ahem… We won’t go there. Reflections.
Suffice it to say that the trip was memorable as usual, amid Flagstaff’s volcanic mountain ranges. The basalt, andesite and ash fragments littering the public parks fulfilled my geologic appetite once again.
Hubby stopped to set up his portable radio along the way, while I wandered about Mormon Lake snapping photos, still reflecting on the wonderful young woman my little sister has become.
As I gazed at the mountains and pines so foreign to our low desert, I thought about the figurative mountains this young lady, my sister, has climbed – bigger than Mt. Humphrey’s in the distance (a stratovolcano). I am proud – so proud of all she has accomplished.
For Readers & Writers: All this reflection got me to thinking about books and the role of reflection after we’ve closed the flaps on a good story. I think the most memorable of books spur that kind of reflection – about self, about surroundings, about hard-to-answer questions, about humanity, about nature. What book(s) kept you thinking well after reading that final page? Why? What story won’t stop replaying itself in your mind?