Growing up, I would go on long road trips with my family throughout the U.S. every summer. I’ve been to, or driven through, almost every state. Instead of our actual destination, which was typically some monument or park or landmark, I always looked forward to the days when we’d just drive. 8 hours on the road was a great day to me. Even more than reading or writing in my journal, my favorite thing to do on those endless drives was to look out the window and listen to my mp3 player. After a Drury or Holiday Inn continental breakfast, I would climb into my seat furthest from the sliding door, put in my earphones, and settle into my imagination. The passing landscapes colored my mood; I felt the safety and closeness of my family in the car with me, the exterior connection with culture through the music, the emotional thrill of letting my mind wander. Daydreaming: the essence of youth.
(I’ve been listening to Feist’s 2004 album Let It Die this morning, which was always one of my favorite albums to listen to on those long drives.)