Open

Driving north on US 101 along the Pacific Coast at 5 am. A cloud dips down, fingers of fog playing on the road as if on a piano. At times it squeezes out a light cold rain. Not enough to ice the path, just sufficient to chill the bones.  I am getting hungry, remembering delicious chowder from a stand in Bodega Bay two days earlier. But now: breakfast.

I am looking for a friendly neon sign: "Open". Any greasy spoon will do, I am not picky about breakfast, somehow eggs and ham have always sat well on the stomach. It must be the hot griddle that sanitizes breakfast so thoroughly. The exits clip by, the small towns and sleepy gas stations maybe awake, maybe not. Looking for that sign. There it is. At last, breakfast.

The symbolic "open," translated:

"I am ready to hear you, to greet you, to interact, to do business. Stop and visit, talk to me."

Are you "open" ?

Can passersby see your sign ?
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