This week over Facebook my mom told me, “Hurry is one of the saddest things in the world.” I thought about that very briefly. But only because, lately, hurry has been the operative word in my world. I haven’t had time for reflection, the deep kind. For peace and quiet. For that inner life. It’s just been all about work and to do lists. All about deadlines and getting from point A to point B with all possible speed. The weekends bring a small respite from the stress but it always returns on Mondays, and with a vengeance. So when a Saturday road trip, the first one of the year, presented itself unexpectedly the other day, promising to take me away from all this relentless hurrying, I did what every depleted, exhausted and harried person would do. I said yes.