Mountains

I drive forty five minutes to work every morning. Sometimes I listen to books on CD, sometimes I listen to music or to National Public Radio (depending on whether or not I can stomach the news that day). Every morning though, I feel like I'm some kind of active participant in the scenery. Today, looking at the mountains in the distance, rolling all over themselves, I was taken with thoughts of what water looks like when it boils, what the fabric of long skirts look like when they blow in the wind, their shadows tucked into the folds. I was taken with thoughts of ladies legs, their knees bent toward to the skies, all those mountainpeaks bent like graceful round joints.