sunday morning sara and i sat watching snow-frosted trees go by our bus window. we were arriving in connecticut after almost a week on greyhound buses. and after such a raucous and extreme experience, from the hellish rage of missing the bus in reno to the joy of seeing family in utah, the ecstasy of colorado rockies at dawn and the madness of voices that is a night bus, this vision of delicate white trees under a white sky was a gentle landing indeed. we arrived and found my brother rob there too, waiting for us. and our luggage, which we had thought lost forever, was there too. as we had roamed around reno on tuesday trying to rent a car to utah and then renting a hotel room instead, our three bags had kept stolidly bumping along under bus after bus until it arrived in new haven, days ahead of us.
dawn in reno was cold and beautiful, and sara and i watched the ducks dunking and bobbing in the truckee river out behind the station. my carelessness resulted in us missing our bus. over the next days i kept thinking: how perfect our trip would have been if i had only double checked our departure time! the trip would have been a seamless whole, flowing from ducks and morning sky to a visit in utah and a placid ride back east. but instead, my rage at missing the bus and losing our luggage punched a hole in the following days. our joy at seeing family in utah mixed with frustration and helpless regret.
but gazing at those trees of white, feathery coral, that serene time in reno with ducks was joined by this new serenity, and the hole of rage closed. . .