A Pilgrim’s Progress

This past week we took a road trip to Iowa to celebrate Thanksgiving with Jenelle's family. It’s a long trip so we like to leave bright and early. The morning is the best part of the day for me. It’s when I'm most alive and so I drive while the rest of the family naps. This usually gets us out past Wheeling, WV before we need to stop for gas, bathroom, and breakfast.

I always like the feeling of rolling down the highway and looking beside me and behind me and seeing Jenelle and the kids all snuggled in and sleeping or playing on their devices.

This trip was no different except for the fact that there seemed to be more traffic than usual for this time of the day. It also felt like there were more lights everywhere. It was probably just a feeling or maybe just a part of getting older, but I did notice the lights more than usual and I didn't like them.  As we left our dark little nook in the woods and headed towards Deep Creek, the lights started to multiply. As we got closer to Morgantown the headlights, street lights, construction lights, and cell towers had my mind in some sort of strobal shock. And driving past Garard's Fort, Lone Pine, and other names from early American history, I couldn't help but think about how things must have been in the 1770s and 80s. I can only imagine. There probably wasn't a light to be seen back then. 

And then I thought about the pilgrims and wondered what Squanto would think if he was suddenly sitting next to me instead of Jenelle.

Probably something like this;

Wow. Such endless rock-like but smooth waterways with these weird canoe-like things everywhere, some big, some little, but all having lights all over them. And it's weird how they float. And they seem to be racing. I wonder if this is an important canoe race? Maybe the big race for all of the tribes. And all along the waterways are lights. Lots of lights! And on these tall things with wings are these red flashing lights way up in the air. And then there are these prairies or plains or swamp-like areas, just flat, but instead of grass there are these big, square, and shiny things. Many shiny things. And they don't have as many lights, but they reflect light. Light must be good. And everyone is going so fast! You can't even see what you are passing!

Of course he would keep his thoughts to himself. I would look over at him and read his mind, and try to explain the lights, the solar panels, the windmills, the cars, and that the race was just people going places. I would drag him into the great energy debate to get his opinion. Should we build more solar panels, dig more coal, build bigger and better windmills?

After a bit of thinking, he would look at me and say," too many lights!"

I drove on in silence with nothing to do but to drive and think. Why do we have so many lights everywhere and all the time anyways? As the darkness turned to daylight, I continued to notice all of the light poles, windmills and gas signs and everything imaginable that could be seen from miles away.

We crossed the Mississippi as the sun was starting to set and lights were coming back on. Almost there, and it felt good to leave the interstate as we headed to the in-laws. My eyes started to wander and look for deer in the recently cut cornfields. A big buck stood by the road and we all got excited about the size of its rack. The sunset was fabulous. Jenelle had to remind me to keep my eyes on the road. There was so much to see. 

Whether or not Squanto would have actually thought these thoughts or not, I don't know. But if he did, I'd have to agree. There's a part to the energy equation that we all tend to forget about.

Too many lights!