Here we are just starting out. The summer after we all graduated from college we traveled cross country. Under the guise of moving Sara to San Francisco the four of us packed up and headed west. We saw the painted desert and slept on the banks of the Rio Grande, we took to coastal roads and desolate flats, we danced honkytonk and airstream, we mapped our days in terms of smallest road and sweetest spot to swim, and, like so many before us, we discovered and loved the riches of California. It was wonderful, it was the birth of adventures.
Here we are now:
Time has passed, years have flown, we have gained much, lost some, and lived around in our bones a little. We now revolve around each other in elliptical orbits, drawn at once by the gravity of our pasts, the omnipresent weight and luster of New York like a great sun, and the distant call of the star-flung west coast. Soon (but not even soon enough!) we’ll all be together again to pick up the thread of our traveling like the best conversations: after much time and distance, right at the point where we left off. And this time, we’ll have Molly:
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Feather By Feather 