11.17.16 Be with all of this

High up on a curving hill, where the small road curls between this and that, where all sorts of wooded homes are tucked away, this morning I see up on the road before me a large oil truck, waiting to cross in front of me, with a long long line of cars twirling back as far as the eye can see.

So I stop, blink my lights, as the cars behind me start to pile up. As I know that possibly one or more is simply going to start pushing their little horn, in some child like frustration, of wanting to "do something" when something distresses them.

The driver looks relieved, pulls forward a bit, and begins the process of backing the mammoth vehicle up a small driveway, which takes two tries, but everybody sits tight, high up on this hill, in this beautiful place, on this beautiful autumn day.

And while we all sit, and patiently wait, no matter what our days hold for us, he makes it on the second try, cut tight and passes the trash cans an inch away. I at least I look on with respect.
As he waves to me and smiles, backs up the driveway and out of sight.

And now, the two long long lines of cars, snake along up in a small rural place, slowly going on their way, patiently, evenly, this time. 

And I go along, simply feeling grateful. 

For the mild temperature. For the large beast by my side. For all that is not, and all that is. For the ability, finally, to simply be with all of this.