balesWhen I told a friend of mine about the road trip to the candy store where I met the giant turtle, Mr. R. Sullivan, on the way, she had this to share:

She and her husband were driving through the countryside one afternoon and they saw a field with, I think, hay bales (as opposed to straw because they’re not the same). The bales were wrapped tight with white plastic. In the afternoon sun, she dreamily looked at them and said, “Those look like giant marshmallows.”

“Take a picture,” her husband said. “We’ll tell the kids we found where marshmallows grow.”

A good road trip opens the imagination.

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