Road Trip – Part 3

AHHH – This all takes me back! Hope you enjoy Part 3! And thanks for reading! 

Behind me, voices, whispers, coughs, yawns and even belches broke the spell. The rolling pitch of an amplified engine, grinding out its worth, pushed me into day. My first sights were the Vermont hills rolling endlessly against one another to form the massive Green Mountains. Specks of buildings nestled in to the valleys and the open hillside fields were rich with the greenest green of summer crops. Far off, I spotted motion within the crevice of two rolling hills. The dawn had already called the farmer to his labor. The quiet simplicity was almost overwhelming. Must be nearly there, I thought, noticing the vast expanse of blue to my left which must be the St. Lawrence River. I had never been where I was going, nor did I know what would be awaiting me there. A new city! Full of antiquity and romance to fill my musical bag, enhancing the charm of my purpose and desire. The crowded streets waited to envelope me with indifference, many streets to be walked down, my gear will feel heavier with each step. Finding, hopefully, the smoked filled room with low voices talking which I would walk into – the talking would cease as my boot hit the stage and all the faces would be looking at me wondering why I was there – their eyes full of envy. The not-so-loosened  arms of sleep regained their hold on me, pulling me back to the realm of far away. Peace.


Suddenly I was there! Signs in French abounded the walls with American pictures behind so I knew what they meant! I walked to the street and out into the sun. The pre-noon heat blazed down hard. I felt tired as I walked toward “Rue de St. Catherine. I paused at each “arty” window hoping someone would notice me and ask where I was from and why. Everyone passed by quiet in their own thoughts: artists in painted jeans, girls in Mod clothes, guys in Mod clothes, Mods in gray business suits, and old women. The park was refreshing as I sat there musing over the sounds of motion. I was more awake now and even feeling somewhat at home. I felt better, even relaxed, and thought of walking and looking some more. The sign read “COFFEE HOUSE” carved in wood. There were stained glass windows and a basement entrance; out of which came laughter, the Rolling Stones on the juke box, and people.


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