The Road To The Sea

Barley, a dog, examines a wide 180-degree turn on a downhill slope, such that a driver would round the bend, passing Barley as they do so, and receive their first glimpse of the shoreline at the end of a straightaway.

An experience one gets used to living in an area that is at once hilly and woodsy is that a lot of roads need switchbacks to achieve a reasonable grade, but the trees limit your sight lines anywhere but along the road. This can create a feeling of suspenseful disorientation: It can be a bit hard to tell which direction you’re headed (beyond uphill or downhill), and your destination remains out of view, until you make that final turn that brings you, at least, back to the water’s edge.

But upon reflection, I realize that Barley has likely never had this experience, because her experience of cars is one in which agency is not merely denied, it’s unimaginable. From her point of view, the boss says “Car Time” and so car time it is, but it’s a pure lottery every time she gets in. Will this drive bring us to the office? Or the grocery store? Or the vet?! No way to know. I imagine she merely experiences it in the moment, and so probably doesn’t have a sense of progress. And you can’t experience the buildup & release of suspense if you don’t have an expectation. Instead, the sea comes as a surprise. “Oh! OK, it’s Sea Time I guess. Cool.”