Getting out of Town
Twice this month I found myself eastward bound with the road ahead, sunglasses on, and music turned up loud. There’s something about driving towards nothing but open sky that makes me introspective. I tend to dwell on things of the past and wonder about the future as I drive along and sing as loud as I can.
I didn’t write a Reflection Sunday post last weekend. You may have noticed. Mom and I rolled back into town late Sunday night after a weekend in Omaha and I was too wiped out and didn’t have any ideas for the blog. Which was silly, a weekend away should have been plenty of inspiration.
Yesterday morning I got a text from a friend who lives in South Dakota that she and her husband were going to be in Nebraska, and only an hour away from me. So I made some adjustments in my day so I could get supper with them last night.
All of this to say, I spent a lot of time in the car the last two weekends.
I like road trips. I don’t mind flying solo either, most of the time.
You see, this means that I get to turn my music up as loud as I want and sing along obnoxiously.
Why do I love singing in the car? What is it about making myself hoarse that I enjoy?
Different albums and songs bring back different memories. On my drive to Omaha last weekend I used the music on my phone and was flooded with nostalgia.
Certain Anberlin songs remind me of my senior year of high school when I first became acquainted with them. Day Late Friend was my jam for months. (And honestly, it still feels like my theme song sometimes.)
Mumford and Sons bring me back to my last year of college and the summer after I graduated—we listened to them as I helped my cousin get her new classroom set up in small-town Nebraska and my brother and I rocked out to them when I helped drive him to Colorado for college the first time.
Two summers were full of weddings, and I listened to The Civil Wars and Imagine Dragons and Coldplay off and on for all of those road trips.
All of these things came rushing back to me, and more.
This weekend I listened to a Francesca Battistelli CD I bought years ago but never got very familiar with. As I drove down Highway 34, learning the new lyrics, I couldn’t help but wonder if in five years I would hear one of these songs and find myself transported to this trip.
Sometimes my life feels like memories strung together by songs and time on the road.
Here’s to many more road trips, songs, and memories.
Don't worry, I took this photo while stopped with no other cars around. Safety first.
