Familiar

I spent three hours on the road this morning driving home from Central Utah. As the sun rose over the East mountains and lit the rural streets of Salina, the sunlight on the slightly shaded barns sent long dark oblique shadows across the adjacent pastures. Shadows of cows became stretched boxes with squatty angled legs and horses elongated into giraffe caricatures. I drove alone, both in my car and on the road, and the Autumn air muffled the waking noises of the small towns. I remembered travelling to Panguitch as a child along the same road long before the faster route was built. The boarded up café at the Levan turnoff seemed to wake as I passed by and I saw 1960’s cars parked along the road waiting for their turn at the drive-thru. The morning sun glinted through my side mirror and I blinked away the image of that familiar yesterday as I made the final turn toward Nephi.