Lots of silly things going on today on our road trip to the east coast but an impulsive, emotional visit to United Flight 93's crash site in Shanksville, PA kind of relegates the traffic stop by the generous Chicago cop, the swerving semi and the Summit Diner pie to the background of my day.
A rain shower at sunset casts a pink and muffled wet over this quiet memorial valley. Draping sheets of fog begins to nestle themselves over and between the shoulders of the green rolling hills that bore witness to a final heroic act. The moon appears distant and filmy, revealed with the storm's passing. This valley is somber and peaceful. It's solitary without feeling lonely. I'm a bit transported and then a little sister screams furiously at her brother, pulling me back and reminding me I am quite alive and thankful for it.