Watching a roadway romance blossom

Bumper-to-bumper morning traffic on Interstate 90. Cars have drawn to a standstill. The illuminated sign warning “heavy congestion” appeared too close to the traffic to assist much in avoiding it. 

We’re stuck in limbo and no one is going anywhere.

I suddenly spotted some movement from the vehicle near mine, a white truck.  A man leapt from the driver’s seat of his truck and started racing up a hill. 

Although the highway had come to a standstill, we would be inching along before too long. What could he be up to? 

Was he sick? Was there an insect or sneaky critter in his vehicle that he needed to keep away from? 

His mission soon revealed itself. 

Among the plants growing on the hillside, a plentiful crop of black eyed-Susans had blossomed. 

He paused to make his selection and then sprinted down the hill, hopping back into his car. 

He joyfully presented his find to his passenger and received a kiss from his sweetheart.

This tale of a roadway romance finding a new way to bloom is more than just another reminder to not take things for granted and enjoy the natural pauses built into our day.

As the heat begins to climb as we get closer to summer and with all of the roadwork underway in the area, it’s easy to invest in irritation and annoyance as we race to get to our destination.

Instead, we can choose to be kind rather than be punitive or withholding to our companions on the roads.  

During commutes to and from work, my days are often filled with distractions, replaying the fantastical comedy of space podcast Wolf 359 or listening to a new album. 

Being present in the moment and sitting in silence has become increasingly difficult in this era of being accessible at every juncture by cellphone for a call, a message, a Facetime. 

Being a transplant from the East Coast, I tend to feel the pressure to fill the void with sound, but perhaps I should follow the lead of the flower-picking gentleman.

Find more time to stop and enjoy nature. Find unexpected ways to let my friends and family know that I care about them. 

Learn a new song even if I have nowhere to sing it except in my living room. 

Perhaps as I draw closer to my fall wedding, celebrating human connections through flowers holds more weight. 

There’s a saying about giving people flowers while they’re still here. 

To watch a man demonstrate his ardor even during the space of something as temporary as a traffic jam shows it only takes a moment to be kind, to remind someone they’re cared for and to stop and pick a flower. 

After all, there’s no harm in stopping to smell the roses. 

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Carolyn Bostick is a reporter with The Press. She can be reached at cbostick@cdapress.com.