windows in cars

My air conditioning is broken in my car. It's been well, sweaty but, honestly, good. Isn't summer in general, having windows open to the world?  Summer means we can hang our arms out, tapping to the beat, smelling green grass being cut, donuts, fried chicken, hot tarmac. Hearing people talking, arguing, laughing. Looking at the faces of happy dogs, having random thoughts about the person singing as we wait on the on ramp.

What, anyway, is a voice singing but one pure expression of a person? There you are, you brave person, letting us hear something that comes from inside of you, formed by your bodies structure, your personality, your mood. Wow! Sing out. 

Instead of listening to music in cool quiet comfort, I'm letting wind fingers mess with my hair, inhaling the smell of French fries and considering having some. At the stop sign, I'm looking over at the guy in the big truck whose window is also open. So so close. I look away.  Noticing the curly white haired  lady, head down, walking her dog in the crosswalk and the little girl, face scrunched up,  in shorts and a t shirt, slowly being pulled down the sidewalk. 

I can hear the wind combing the Cottonwoods lining the street as I drive home. I look up seeing the trees growing and the trees browning. How did I miss this? I did open my windows but mostly kept them closed. Like taking a bite instead of the full meal of a summer day. Yes, my hair is messy, my face shiny and I'm a bit warm when I get out of my car. Ironically what I was missing with the windows rolled up and the heat cranking out in cold Winter. More though, I feel grounded. I'm here. Now. Not being transported from one place to another but in it. Summer.