Springer's Journey

I used to think everybody experienced life the way I did.

I thought everybody heard music where there wasn’t any.

Not actual songs, but cadence. Rhythm.

I hear it in Cora’s tires rolling down the highway. I don’t even need the radio on most of the time. The road has a sound. The wind has a sound. The world has a rhythm if I pay attention.

I thought everybody noticed things.

A bird’s personality.

A little blinking light in the dark.

The way a dog stretches into its full magnificent self.

Today I met a beautiful Saluki named Cloud. Of course I asked permission before taking a picture. I don’t know her human’s name. I forgot to ask. 😂

But I had to meet Cloud.

I have to meet Cloud.

For years I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. I eventually realized I was somehow…different.

I noticed too much.

Felt too much.

Asked too many questions.

Who asks about the story behind a town name?

Who stops for birds?

Who notices a cadence in tires?

Apparently me.

For a long time I thought being different meant there was a defect somewhere in the wiring.

But I eventually learned something important.

Curiosity can run wild and drag you all over the place.

Or…

You can learn to harness it.

And when I finally learned how?

Oh my goodness, what joy it has brought me.

Fireflies.

Crows.

Words that feel good when they leave your mouth.

Cloud.

People with stories.

Little moments that don’t cost a dime but somehow become treasures.

I don’t think life handed me magical moments.

I think curiosity taught me how to see them.

— Lorrie

Polished with help from ChatGPT, who now suspects Cora’s tires may actually be performing symphonies.