I’m taking a brief stop at a rest area along I81. Only a few folks have responded along the road but all those that have responded, have been positive! A honk, a wave, a big smile and nod of the head. One car pulled over on the shoulder waiting for me to pass, then pulled behind me and hovered for awhile but said nothing as he pulled out and passed me again.

But at the rest stop, an older womon accompanied by her young adult maybe daughter or friend, raised her fist in salute, smiling broadly. I jumped down, out the truck, but they were gone by the time I was on the sidewalk trying to find them. Several minutes later, another older womon, also native and also beautiful, approached me and asked me if I was going to the protest in D.C. this weekend.

I was immediately regretful – I would have loved to follow this womon to D.C. and stand together, but I already made a commitment to the festival. She told me they were heading there to join hundreds of others and that I should try to come. I promised her I will be in D.C., if not this weekend then soon. She then expressed her love and appreciation for my truck, sweeping her eyes over the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Womyn & Girls red dress. I asked her if she wanted to paint another womon’s name on the dress before I remembered I had removed all my paint, etc., from my truck but she said she regretted she didn’t have time.

“Next time we meet, sister” she said.

Next time we meet.