Somewhere between here and there I rolled down my manual car window on the driver’s side, and let the swift wind flow like a course river into my little Chevy Cobalt. I speed along passing the Oak trees on the side of some lonely freeway. My foot slowly falls against the gas pedal throttling the vehicle forward, and I gaze on as the broken white line beside the car attempts to make sense of it all, and reconnect itself like a reel of film slides passing by to make a movie.
It’s in the car, when I’m driving on an open stretch of road, where everything makes sense and things fall into place. For me, driving, mostly by myself, is a therapeutic pastime that reveals the world to me in a way that is productive and relaxing. I get to a desired destination and I have a chance to either reconnect with my thoughts or sing way too loudly to my favorite songs. I try not to do it as often, but when I do get the chance to quickly make the car’s rubber meet the road, I cherish my time on the motorway and enjoy the ride.
“We can’t know what’s going to happen. We can just try to figure it out as we go along.
– Roger Sullivan”
― Morgan Matson, Amy and Roger’s Epic Detour
Jazzed About Stuff 
I love the solitude of driving, too, whether it’s by car or motorcycle. Free and easy; thinking your own thoughts; stopping and going when YOU want and WHERE you want. It’s a wonderful thing. Thank you. xoA
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There’s something about driving, isn’t there? The anonymity. The loud music. It’s freedom.
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I think I’d like driving better if I didn’t have to share the road with other drivers. But there is something soothing about the sound and feel of tires on the road.
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Lovely post! It was short but captured perfectly the joy of driving alone.
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