April is the cruelest month, certainly not the most scenic time to go looking for America. Heading east from Nebraska to New Jersey, the stubbled fields were still dappled with gray melting snow and the ravages of winter could still be seen through the leafless forests. Only the flocks of sandhill cranes brightened the scenery.
Sandhill Cranes in the corn stubble
It wasn’t until we crossed the Delaware River into the state of the same name that we saw even a rumor of spring. The farther south we drove, the greener things became and forsythia and yellow daffodils began to pop up. By the time we reached Virginia I was overcome by sneezing from the blooming cherry trees. We were back in shirtsleeves as we heard of yet another blizzard sweeping through Denver.
Cherry Blossom Time
Just a small step from “couch surfing,” freeloading is our preferred form of lodging. We have been taking advantage of the generosity of friends and familial obligation, sleeping in seldom-used guest rooms, recently vacated kid’s quarters and the occasional basement. Very much aware of the relationship between houseguests and fish, we dutifully move on after a couple of days.
Life in the US is so predictable; almost everything works “as advertised.” It has been nice to see friends and family again. But I still can’t help feeling there is something amiss with the nation. If only one could feel its pulse, check its temperature, I am sure they would find something wrong. No longer “one nation, under god,” America feels like a divided country, with little hope of reconciliation. “But it’s all right, it’s all right,” as Paul Simon sang, “for we’ve lived so well so long. Still when I think of the road we’re traveling on, I wonder what’s gone wrong.”
So we are off again, another trans-Atlantic cruise and more adventures. Spain and Portugal first, then North Africa.
