Tomorrow after work I'm making my escape. I'm packing up the pup and heading towards the Blue Ridge Mountains with an hours-long mix of "Music for Melancholy: A Mountain Drive." Hours of songs to make one ponder. To try to make head and heart connect. To reason with reason.
Once I'm there, I'm unplugged. From computers and cable, from city noise, from everyone. I'm going overboard on piles of books, bonfires, and down blankets. I'm going to find hidden treasures in dusty country junk shops and pick the perfect apples.
Sometimes it's good to run away and hide, whether in a mountain valley shack or under the covers, to shut out the world and listen to the sound of your own breathing.