Freedom

One of my dreams is to own some kind of convertible Volkswagen. Why? Well, a Volkswagen because . . . okay, I really have no reason for that other than I like Volkswagens and my dad's first car was a VW Rabbit. But. There is however, a very specific reason for the convertible. I want a convertible because I can't think of anything that feels more like freedom than having the wind all around me as I fly down the open road. 

The truth of the matter is though, I don't have a convertible. I don't have a Volkswagen. Shoot, I don't even have a car. But necessity is the mother of invention, and I deem freedom a necessity. So I improvise. 

As soon as the weather is anything above 40 degrees, I immediately shun AC and/or heat and roll down the windows all the way. I put my left arm out the window. I move towards the window to get as much wind exposure as possible. If it is only slightly above 40, I ignore the tears that seep from my eyes at the biting wind. If it is around 70, I sigh in relief. But no matter what the temperature/wind chill is, I lean into the wind. I lean into the freedom that comes from those moving currents, swirling away the thoughts and worries and leaving me with something fresh and new. I cannot explain to you how much, in those moments, I wish to move along with those winds and let them take me wherever they choose. 

And now that I sound like Pocahontas, I will finish by saying . . .

I love the car windows rolled down. 

m(r)