And I think to myself...

...what a wonderful world...

Mr. Jenny is off at a meeting and I am alone in our beautiful hotel suite in San Antonio.   From the large bedroom window, I can see the River Walk winding below.   At my right hand, a heavy mug of room service coffee fragrances the elegant space of the sitting room.

How lucky I am.

Our son is one of the managers at this 4-star property, so we are blessed wtih room rates we can afford in a suite that feels like we are staying on a movie set.

Our drive east from Phoenix was lovely.

At first I lamented the fast forward that occurs with interstate driving.

But then, my mind quickly began noticing details of the country we were passing through...

...un-dotted exclamation points of telephone poles marching in military beat...

...painted mountain backdrops... 

...both the surprise and the linear sleekness of verdant pecan groves and vineyards appearing against  the unlikely umber and khaki subtlety of desert vistas.

...the architectural skeletons of buildings and billboards inspiring myriad imaginings of times and messages from the past.

I am often in a state of suspended animation on road trips...there is an odd familiarity as ghosts of trips past clutter the car along with discarded coffee containers and Quaker rice cake (barbecue flavor please) wrappers. 

I discard the trash at rest stops along the way, but the backseat of the car remains inhabited with memories of my children in their younger years chattering and bickering away.  

The stready thrum of wheels on pavement accompany my musings as I watch dots of black birds dance on the thermals and toy trains slowly unroll down the contained geography of their sunlight- glinted tracks.

Later today I will get dressed and put on make-up and gather my energy for conversation and laughter.

Later today we will explore the city a bit with our son and his lovely girlfriend.

For now, though, I will sit quietly in this rare time alone.  I willl think deep thoughts and take a long bath in the gorgeous marble bathroom and I will rejoice in the solitude of this grand room...

...and I will smile with the knowledge that we have a new Grandson, 8 pound Robert Quinn, born while every turn of our tires took us both farther and closer to family.  

Oregon feels so far away from Texas, but how fortunate we are to live in an age when cell phones and skype allow us to see the tender seashell of a newborn's ear or the marvel of dark, peachy fuzz on the nape of a sweet just-born baby boy's neck.