A roadside rest area on Rt. 15 south is an oasis.
A monsignor from the nearby Mount St. Mary's created it. The traveler stretching his legs looks down on a little meadow with a pond that blooms with reeds, lilies, herons, red-winged blackbirds, life. In the distance the Catoctin Mountains frame a white steeple of a distant village church. And always silence. Only the birds converse.
I stop on my trips home from PA. It is a moment to reflect and let the stillness erase the clutter of my soul. This Friday morning was the same.
But moments later when I turned back to the center for the restrooms, there was the sign on the door, "Please report all suspicions of human trafficking....."
Ah, yes. That too.
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