Perspective - Part 1

My journey started on a beautiful day not far from the mountains. Lingering warmth of the summer radiated the courtyard with a slight nip in the air, promising imminent cooler season. I sat in a chair in the meeting room, nestled in clear plastic. My red coat with its charcoal trim shone as I proudly displayed the beautifully carved lettering on my cover, “Porsche”.

I was in Stuttgart, Germany at a Porsche plant, anticipating the arrival of my new owners. As a forgotten object, I sat, waited, and sat some more until finally the room poured in with people. A couple, perhaps in their 30s or 40s sat next to me, my existence unacknowledged. My patience wearied as I aspired to be free of the plastic wrapping. Finally, the woman reached for me, tore open my suffocating thin layer and held me with both of her hands. She examined me from back to front, tickled me as she unzipped and rezipped my many compartments, and nodded with approval. For me, it was love and I vowed to stay strong for her always. Our adventure was just beginning and I smiled with satisfaction.

Soon we were escorted out of the room towards our car. They threw me in the back, bucket seat and soon I felt the vibrations of that sweet engine pulse through me. Our journey lasted four days through narrow paths, steep climbs, sharp turns, tiny mountain villages, and the vistas, oh so memorable. The Swiss Alps edged by the mighty black forest with their tall pines and the placid lakes placed secretly within the bosom of the peaks drew shrieks of delight from my owners. We made stops for lunches on top of hills in the wine country town in Italy, by the famous waterfalls in Germany, and even a bathroom break in Austria where the men went in the woods.

Nighttime I sat in the dark in my bucket seat, protected against the sweet but chilled air of the high altitude of Switzerland. Night insects orchestrated their symphonies until dawn, when they passed the baton to the cows who grazed the hills. Bells hanging from their necks resounded the sound of their music through the hills, waking everyone up. Other nights the morning sounds of a village waking up in a tucked away mountainous corner of Bavaria entered my sleepless senses. Our last night was back in my hometown, Stuttgart where after an emotional farewell to the Porsche – our beloved car, I carried its emblem along for the rest of my journey.

To be continued...