we settled into each other's space

text and photography: katie beth

A little less than a year ago a couple friends and I decided that we wanted to drive to New York for spring break this year. Senior year, taste of travel in Europe, why not in the United States. So. I wrapped the little I need up into my backpack again, doubled my state count, trembled a lot, and saw more with my emotions than my eyes.

The four of us piled into a tiny 1991 Honda Civic LX named Bruce, prayed that God would sustain him and ourselves, and proceeded to drive up the east coast.

So much to soak in as we whipped past it. My camera could only catch so much. Wide open spaces and southern mountains. Trees on trees softening the edges of great ridges. Glimpses of people's lives through their car windows as they passed us. Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia. All rolling past.

We turned through the last stretches of road and into the driveway of a simple white one-story. Met at the door by a petite friend, we collapsed into the rooms, careful not to open the closet and disturb the little blond-headed, spectacle-wearing sprite of a boy. He finally came out to go to bed but, as I so often wish I could do, he threw a blanket over his head to do so.

With the sun down and our hands beginning to shake from the driving, we slipped into bed and fell asleep before the cold edge was off the sheets.