By Chuck Woodbury
Do you know how to tell the difference between a hard boiled egg and a raw egg without cracking it? It’s easy: just spin the egg on your kitchen counter. If the egg stops and stays stopped, it’s hard boiled. If it stops, then spins a little bit again, the egg is raw — the liquid still has a bit more spin left.
That’s what it’s like when you return from a long road trip, like the one I just finished. You park your RV, go home, plop down on your couch — but you feel like you’re still moving — your mind races with images of people, places and things, and the rocking and rolling of driving home feels like it hasn’t stopped. It’s like the raw egg.
Now, home a few days, I have pretty much slowed down, but not all together. My mind is still flush with memories and images. One minute, out of nowhere, I see a beautiful country road through a grove of brightly colored fall leaves. Then I’m eating lobster in Kittery, Maine. And then I’m in my motorhome, rain pounding on my RV’s roof, as a big rainstorm passes through. Then I’m eating an ice cream cone in a century-old general store near Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, gabbing with a couple of biker guys.
IN A FEW MORE DAYS, I’ll fully settle back into my life here at home. I am happy to be with friends and family again. I have noticed no changes in my small town except for new pink curtains in a window near my office. The days are shorter. The rain is back. It’s time for me to put away my summer shorts and bring out sweaters and jackets.
In a few months I’ll get restless and start dreaming of heading out again. It always happens: I will be excited about traveling all over again. And then after that I will be excited about coming home. It’s my circle of life.