Road trip - 2020 Autumn

This is an old article that was created in the fall of 2020. Just realized it did not publish. Do it now.

Under the golden hue of a serene autumn, I found myself subscribing to an electronic magazine called "Country" through Amazon's website. This digital window into rural life not only allowed me to glimpse into the diverse ways people live but also served as a monthly guide to the soul-soothing escapades I longed for. Each issue arrived with the promise of new themes and adventures, and this month was dedicated to self-driving travel.

I had always harbored a deep-seated yearning for the open road, to feel the freedom of steering my course through the wilderness. The thought alone stirred a restless excitement within me. The magazine's vibrant pages painted a vivid picture of the journey ahead: routes that promised views of autumnal glory, with leaves donning their most fiery hues of reds, oranges, and golds, and air so fresh it could cleanse the weariest of spirits.

The timing could not have been more perfect. It was indeed a beautiful autumn; the air was crisp, and the temperature was a gentle caress against the skin, an ideal embrace for a traveler. The magazine detailed various paths, but one, in particular, captured my imagination—a road meandering through an ancient forest, where the trees stood tall, their leaves whispering the secrets of the ages.

I set out with nothing but a backpack, my camera, and an insatiable thirst for the beauty that awaited. The road was my canvas, and my car, a brush painting my journey in strokes of miles and memories. I drove through the morning mist, the sun peering through the canopy, its rays like golden threads weaving through the fabric of the forest.

The beauty of the journey was not just in the destination but in the countless moments along the way. Whenever the scenery unveiled its splendor, I pulled over. There was no rush—only the desire to embrace the present. I took photographs, each a frozen shard of time, capturing the brilliance of the autumn canvas. The leaves, a mosaic of colors, seemed to dance in the gentle breeze, performing for an audience of one.

And then, there was the road itself—a stretch of possibility reaching into the horizon. To drive along it was to court the unknown and to flirt with the horizon. The longing to follow it wherever it might lead was overwhelming. It symbolized a journey without end, a story perpetually unfolding.

One photograph, in particular, resonated with me. It was an image I had found on the internet, a creative masterpiece that melded colors in perfect harmony, giving the viewer a sense of being part of the scenery. It was this photo that had inspired me to take the trip, and now, here I was, living within my own picture-perfect scene.

As I ventured further, the sun began its descent, painting the sky in strokes of pink and orange. I found a clearing, a natural viewpoint overlooking a valley. The trees, like sentinels, framed the setting sun, and the world below was a tapestry of shades and light. I set up my camera and captured the scene, knowing that no photograph could truly do justice to the majesty before me, yet compelled to try.

Night fell, and with it came a chill, a reminder that nature is a beauty with many faces. I returned to my car, the warmth within a welcome contrast to the crisp air outside. The road called to me still, a siren song promising new wonders beyond the bend.

Autumn was not just a season; it was a call to adventure, a reminder of the world's endless wonders. The temperature was a gentle invitation, the sunny weather a smiling guide. And so, I made a silent vow to heed the call whenever it came, to travel the roads laid out before me, to stop and appreciate the view, and to capture the essence of the journey with every snapshot.

The magazine "Country" lay on the passenger seat, its pages now a part of my journey. It had been a guide, but the road had been my teacher. As I looked forward to the paths and adventures that lay ahead, I knew that the true essence of travel was not just in the sights but in the spirit of exploration—a spirit that, once ignited, would burn with the brilliance of autumn leaves forevermore.