Mumford and Sons and Driving to New Orleans

I wish I was driving to New Orleans...... but I'm not.

However, today I was driving west on Guerneville Road, the coastal cool air of the coastal fog was mixing with the heat of Santa Rosa and Mumford and Sons' first CD was in my car player. I picked up the Big Dog (Bebe) at the kennel and as I was driving back, driving east, no one in front of me, that driving guitar of the album was blasting and all I wanted to do was keep on driving.  Windows were down, hot air mixed with cool was blowing my (short) hair around, the road was straight and, honestly, all I wanted to do was drive. Through Reno, out to Hwy. 50, the Loneliest Highway in America, on to wherever.

It was probably the confluence of the hot air, the wind in my hair and the music, but it was just as powerful as the driving guitar. Just as seductive and just as enticing.   I simply wanted to go. To drive. To keep on driving. The end didn't matter.  The drive did.

But here I am, still in Santa Rosa. The drive to drive will stay. Hitting the road is in my blood. Soon, I hope.