I'm back from Cordele, drove

Oct 01 2001
I'm back from Cordele, drove in tonight with all the other Sunday drivers. Around Unadilla a flailing mass of birds passed over the car, traveling directly but inefficiently south. The lead group split in two as if responding to some imminent threat; the followers then began to climb appearing, from below, to form from chaos a trident figure in the sky. Its handle looked like the careless scribble of a number 2 pencil, something one might squiggle in disgust having given a cartoon elephant a disproportionately small trunk or a hand too few fingers. The cars went straight underneath, testaments to the determination of a superior species. For the next 10 miles, I debated the appropriateness of the bird as a symbol of freedom. Is it really a freedom to have one's primary dimension be so empty? Or is that emptiness the very essence of freedom? I finally concluded that the term 'freedom' was too arbitrary to fuel a debate. Then I took Ben Folds out of the Player and put in Radiohead and continued to drive north.