Short night's journey into day

The color in West Virginia hasn't caught up to central Pennsylvania yet. It's still mostly green. The reds and golds don't add to the brilliance of the hills so much as take the edge off the green. Now I know where the idea for olive drab came from.

Of course I didn't know any of this when I got started this morning. I couldn't see it.

Driving through rain can be kind of scary. I think I mentioned that yesterday.

Well, so is driving in the dark.

So is driving through the mountains.

So there I was, driving through the rain. In the dark. Through the mountains. With twenty tons of sloshing liquid in the trailer behind me. At least I didn't have to worry about my mind wandering too much.

That early on a rainy morning the real challenge is to see anything. Dry asphalt of any age doesn't really earn the name "blacktop"--it's more gray than black. But wet asphalt in the dark is practically invisible. And the painted lines on the asphalt don't show up as well wet as dry, either. Your high beams help, but you can't leave them on all the time. And other drivers have this disturbing habit of coming into sight just as you see that curve ahead. You know, the one you can't see any more when you switch to low beams.

This truck has driving lights. Brighter than your low beams, aimed downward so you can leave them on without blinding the oncoming traffic. Once you remember to turn them on the road gets a bit less scary. But you still can't see anything that isn't road. Driving though black mountains not-silhouetted against black sky.

Eventually you notice the sky isn't black anymore. It's more a very dark gray. The only reason you can tell is that the mountains are still black. With a little squinting, you can see silhouettes now.

Somehow that makes driving easier. Not much, but some.

Light gray, then. The silhouetted mountains become a bit more complex. As if there might be trees on those summits. You can't prove it, but you can believe it again. And if you look very hard, you can see the road.

And after a while, there are trees on the slopes above you, dark black on light black.

And a little later, they begin to take on shapes. You can tell where one tree stops and the next starts. Or at least you could, if you dared stare long enough.

Then, finally, there is color. Not much, yet. There won't be much, not today. Olive drab under gray clouds. Dim and dull and absolutely beautiful.