Every now and then I get in weird moods where I want to be alone, with time to think and breathe and walk. Sometimes I’m sad in these moods other times I just want to think. So I drive, look at books, go to parks, and walk through the woods. Breathing in cleaner air. Stepping away from people and into what we came from. Thinking and breathing in and out, in and out.
It was a stupid, rough day today. It was a shitty day at work (rolling bunks of lumber, tipping a forklift) and on top of that I was arguing with someone the whole day. But things like that come to an end. Work ended, the argument ended. I talked it out with my mom, who’s is always ready to listen. And then I drove. I drove down my favorite roads, no music, windows down, cool air rushing in, cicadas buzzing, fireflies blinking over the cornfields, the smell of dust and Indiana from the cloud of dust that followed my car as I sped down the road. It was damn near perfect. And by the end of it, how could I not feel better. Because those things, all wrapped up in a drive out in the country is one of most healing and comforting things in the world.