When I was young I remember a North American Van Lines moving truck in our neighborhood and that rich blue of the trailer nearly matching the sky. Blue was a color of dreams and for me that blue symbolized the excitement of moving to a new, unknown place.
Those memories came back to me when I came upon the faded blue paint and rust tinged scrapes of a weather beaten North American truck. What I found was a story of a multitude of experiences from its crossings of America. Hot sunny drives in the South, drenching rains in the Midwest and impossibly cold winter days in the Northeast all had faded that rich, rich blue. I imagined with a smile that the scrapes and dents were from misjudged turns by a novice driver or an overconfident veteran driver attempting to squeeze into a narrow alley, just a wee bit too narrow.
If I could ask, I am sure that truck could tell a litany of colorful stories but what I knew was from listening with my eyes.