On a particularly busy day last week, I was driving into Morrisville when I spotted a peculiar sight. Just beyond the roundabout next to the Charlmont, a tire was crossing the road all by its lonesome.

I wasn’t in the most particularly happy mindset; it had been a fraught day. But seeing the tire soar across the road in the distance made my mood do the same.

It was a large tire, with a albeit-rusted rim still inside. With great speed it came from the right side of the road, bumping along as it rolled. As I saw it, my companion in the passenger seat did, too, and I cried, “There he goes!”

It was like something out of a movie. I swear I heard Schubert’s “Ave Maria” drifting through the air. It was simultaneously graceful and clunky, alternating bump-soar-bump-soar as it crossed. While I knew there was no motor inside, it really did look powered by its own motion.

That tire was going somewhere, and, by God, it was going.

“I believe in you!” I shouted to my dashboard, only slightly aware that 1) I was too far away for the tire to hear me and 2) tires are terrible listeners anyway.

As we turned through the roundabout, we lost sight of the tire, but we thought it would probably make its way into the Big Lots parking lot, and we cackled and joked about the rare and beautiful sight of spontaneous tire migration.

It was magnificent, being privy to such a fleeting moment, something that so rarely happens and even rarer experienced. There are so many pun opportunities, there, too; Maybe the tire was trapped somewhere, TREADing each terrible moment and decided to es-CAR-pe? Maybe his captors had left the door open, and he’d seized an opportunity to run (roll?) away and re-TIRE somewhere where no one could find him. He’d live out the GOODYEARs of his life on a TIREless quest for reunion with his three missing tire siblings!

Personification of tires aside, it was awesome.

As we continued our journey, we punned and wisecracked about the tire and its fate, then went on with the rest of our day.

Anxiety about homework and responsibilities consumed me, and I nearly forgot about the incident until my partner brought it up again.

I confess that I am not always the most present person, and sometimes anxiety can trap me in future-think. Sometimes I forget to live in the moments I’m given, and I forget just how amazing life is.
I may never see another tire cross the road like that ever again, and I’m grateful that I got to experience it. Someone, somewhere, is missing a tire, and that fact inspires great joy.

Readers, I hope that you find great joy in the small things this week- that a great big tire of excitement and gratitude and hope rolls through your metaphysical parking lot. When it does, watch it roll and jump and go. Let yourself revel in the ridiculousness of it all.

I wish you the greatest sense of contentment. I hope you find the perfect puns for the situation.
So here’s my thought—stay mindful. Take every opportunity as a chance to learn something new and be surprised in the most delightful ways.

If you’re not seeing it, try being “the tire” for someone else. Add a little spontaneity into your routine and see if something sparks.

Maybe you’ll break free of something holding you back, and just like that majestic tire, you’ll fly.

-Rebecca Flieder
Editor in Chief