This afternoon, I joined my friend Jill on a drive to pick up some of her quilts from a lady with a long-arm sewing machine. We drove into the country, along roads I'd never seen. If we'd not had a purpose for the drive, my father and mother would have called it "hilling and daling," a Sunday drive to take in the sights. 
And take them in we did. The drive was absolutely beautiful: woods and farms and the entrance to The Walls of Jericho and an apple orchard and deer processing homes and lakes like pock marks in blowing dry grass the color of honey.
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