It sits out there in the driveway with the season's first snow flurries dusting its windshield as the last of the leaves fall from the trees.
Inside the RV, there's the faint but sweet smell of the antifreeze I ran through the plumbing last week. The doors to the refrigerator and the freezer are open to air out. The food and coffee in the storage cupboards are emptied. Only a RV Lifestyle sweatshirt and a light weight nylon jacket hang in the once crowded wardrobe.
My wide-brimmed hat with the pins and buttons collected from national parks and scenic attractions hangs by its neck string behind the driver's seat, waiting, seemingly, to be put on and to begin another trip.
It's so cold you can see your breath when you step inside.
Our dog, who loves the RV Lifestyle, guards and patrols the RV like a treasure. Sometimes he lies down on the driveway, right outside the sliding door. If it's going anyplace, he seems to be saying, it's taking him.
The RV is ready for the cold Michigan winter.
It would shiver if it could.
Inside our sticks and bricks house is a calendar now filled with planned trips for the coming year. But first comes the slowest travel time of the year, the weeks leading up to the New Year.
So right now, it sits parked and – am I imagining this?- looking lonesome and forlorn.
Do RVs dream?
Silly question, I know. But we do imbue them with personalities, naming them, referring to them by gender-specific pronouns. We look at them and think of the places we've been, the places we will visit. They represent freedom, adventure, the excitement of pulling out, and the call of the open road.
They sure make us dream, don't they?
Soon, loyal RV…. soon.