Summer golden, fresh, new, free. Music coming from somewhere in the distance, somewhere that maybe doesn't even exist. Somewhere in the sun-warmed recesses of the mind that awaken only when everything is in its prime, bending in the slight breeze and waving gently to you.
Power lines running and jumping next to you over their wooden posts lining the road your speeding car travels on. Wind whipping around sun-kissed hair through a driver-side window. No real towns for miles, just gas stations and a building or two scattered each twenty miles. Bare feet at a rest stop, uneven stones in burning dusty black asphalt.
Red and green and gold. Hot ozone, sticky calm nights. Heart beating strong and a million miles an hour with your thoughts, eons away but more in the moment than you've ever been.
Take me here; I can feel it nearing.