Blue Eyed Girl and the Black Eyed Susan
Gathering weary bones I climb into my old pickup truck, settle in and begin a bittersweet journey away from her. The fringe northern border of this Old Line State may not be home, yet blissful shelter is found amongst a mound of blonde curls and soft blue eyes. Navigating expansive multi lane arteries is not entirely foreign to my rural sensibilities though fellow travelers seem perturbed by the deliberate pace I meander along at times. Sliding off the foothills of it's western basin I buffet with the gulls across the high arches of that imposing suspension bridge that cast one across the Chesapeake. Deposited once more upon the Peninsula, turning away from an unseen Nor'easter my buggy careens south through the heart of Delmarva instinctively siphoning itself towards the coast. Granite outcrops have given way to gently, if not subtly rolling fields of harvested grain, boggy marshes and tidal wetlands. Once more I am at the precipice of her beach head, the majestic Atlantic where mounds of frozen precipitation have been replaced by those of frothy white brine. Heart content at either end of this odyssey there is surely comfort...with this 'Shore life.