Sad Girl On A Mountaintop

I watched her pull off at the interstate scenic mountain overlook somewhere in central Virginia.  She drove past the RV and the families with kids running around their cars, and chose a spot down at the end of the row of parking spaces.  I'm not sure what it was that caught my eye or made me pay so much attention to her.  Perhaps it was the impressive number of bugs adorning the front of the otherwise nice SUV.  Maybe it was the stuffed pelican on the dash or maybe the Florida tag.  She was a long way from home, and alone. But, I'm pretty sure it was her sad face that drew me in.

As she sat there in her car, releasing her seat belt and removing her sunglasses, she stared at the vista before her with the most melancholy expression.  She opened the door and stepped out, stopping for a moment to look around at her fellow overlookers.  When her face turned towards me it was obvious she had been crying.  Her eyelids were swollen and red, cheeks streaked with tear tracks.  Brown eyes large and liquid, softened by heavy sadness.  Dressed casually in denim capris, a t-shirt and keds, no jewelry, no make up, she looked to be mid- 40's'ish.  She must have noticed me, or maybe the family of 6 lined up for a group photo, staring at her, because she put her sunglasses back on and turned to close and lock her door.  She walked toward the overlook and I noticed the slightest wan smile, as if she was mildly amused by what the staring strangers must think of her, the lonely tourist.  

She stopped at the rail and began taking pictures with an iPhone.  What I could see of her face behind the sunglasses was a mix of awe and wonder at her surroundings and worry, loss and loneliness.  As she walked from one end of the overlook to the other, stopping to take pictures every few feet, she removed her sunglasses again.  Thumbing through the pictures, she seemed pleased with the results because she put the phone in her front pocket and just stared out at the beautiful valley and layers of mountain peaks in the distance for a few more minutes.  Then she turned and started walking back toward the parking spaces. Again, her eyes, still heavy with recently shed tears, swept the parking scene, alert and wary of the group of guys getting out of a van and watching her.  Again she put her sunglasses back on and walked hurriedly to her car.  I was struck by the contrast of the quiet beauty in the sad girl and the majestic awe inspiring mountain beauty all around.  

She got back in her car and I watched her lock her doors, start her engine, fasten her seat belt and fiddle with her phone or some other device for a few minutes before backing out and driving off.  My eyes followed the Florida tag until it was out of sight, heading down the other side of the mountain, and I wondered where she had been, where she was going, what sad story had hung those lines of care on her face.  I found myself wishing safe travels and a lighter load for that sad girl on the mountaintop.