I was up before five this morning for the first time since school let out for holiday break a couple weeks ago. I packed our things for our day trip to Houston. I felt judgement’s pull. The chattering monkey mind was swinging from rope to rope inviting me up into the corner of its cage.

Shh … little monkey, not today.

The rural landscapes along Highway 71, toward Bastrop and Smithville, were made opalescent by the early sun and the smoky clouds of drifting mist rising from the rivers and cattle ponds.

Shh, little monkey.  Can’t you see what I see?

Baby twin cousins.  Grandparents.  Aunts and uncles. Cousins grown into teens. Play and laughter. Meals and hugs.

Shh, little monkey.  Don’t you feel what I feel?

I steer our way home in a dark tunnel of happy solitude, a gift from my passengers’ slumber and a day well lived.

Shh, little monkey.  Go to sleep.