Ode to a road
On the way home, there is a long, straight avenue that, at certain points in a year, drives straight into the setting sun. Today was one such day. Imagine, if you will, the road ahead drenched in a thick golden syrupy light, with gnarled, imposing trees on either side asserting their deep purple and lavendar shadows. Imagine the large, varied but consistently aesthetic houses framing the road, their western walls brilliant with the fiery evening light, and their eastern walls immersed in violet shadow. Look up and see the intricate latticed network of leaves whizzing past above the car, silhouetted into a deep indigo, with sunlight streaming insistently through the gaps in long golden ribbons, forcing your eyes into squints. Imagine a sense of absolute serenity well up within you as you are rendered silent by the quiet magnificence of a warm evening in July, and bask in the warm, tranquil glow of simple appreciation.
Try to ignore the raucous squawking of Avril Lavigne on radio, and it might almost be a perfect day.