It’s Monday and Lyndon’s arm is still sore and I talk him into taking the day off and we head to the city. When you live in a small town, a trip to the city is a big thing. In our case, the city is Regina, the capital of Saskatchewan. It’s a couple of hours away, and we pack up the kids and throw in the coolers to pack the groceries into, and we’re off.
There’s a kind of city routine we’ve fallen into. The familiar complaining about the road construction, the familiar complaining about trying to find a parking spot at Costco, the familiar complaining about all the traffic, the familiar complaining about the bad drivers.
We buy the groceries and find winter boots for the youngest and the kids buy season 2 of Duck Dynasty, and we head home.
As fun as a trip to the city is, it’s always sweet to leave it behind.
I snap pictures while we are stopped at a railroad crossing. It’s a shock to stop there; I’ve not seen a train on those tracks in the ten years I’ve been driving that road.
I take cellphone pictures of the train, and the snow geese in the field, and we are barely down the road again when Carter needs to stop for a pee. And then Lyndon too, and they pee on the vehicle’s tires on the edge of the road and not a single car passes.
Today I’m noticing the sweetness of prairie drives and coming home.