boxterjulep

Well, spirits were good, in some cases bad, but regardless, I thought I'd call my opossum friend and explore some heavy traffic.

It was fairly late or early in the morning so the stretch of road we chose wasn't too busy. Drat. Sunday mornings, you know. Still, we liked how the dark hills appeared like mounds of shadows in front of the deep dark blue sky on both sides of the highway.
And the moon...I could have put all my heart-shaped candies in it last night. There was a constant murmur of traffic rumbling somewhere but we weren't seeing it from where we were lying. We instead looked up at constellations and made fun of their formations.

We chose the fast lane figuring the odds of being run over might be better. The slow lane is no fun. Semi trucks always go right over you and the slow pokes invariably stop without a screeching rubber burning halt. Not that we wanted to die, we just enjoy seeing the look on the drivers' faces. It's usually a hoot (we don't die!) and we celebrate by holding hands and singing a seldom sung version of the song...

Ring, a ring o' roses!
A pocket full o' posies!
Up-stairs and down-stairs!
In my lady's chamber--
Husher!
Husher!
Cuckoo!

but we still fall down.