Thirty-Eight Degrees

Today it was 38 degrees outside. A lady was driving her car, a convertible, with the top down. I surmise that the mechanism must be stuck, poor soul. The wind whips her hair across her face, cold air bites at every turn. I make the same assumption when it's raining, or snowing and I see a driver with his window down. I feel badly that he must suffer the ills of a broken window, allowing the freezing wetness to blow into his vehicle. That is, until I see the glow from his cigarette as he flicks it out the open window. Nope, he has chosen to leave the window open for his own enjoyment. The lady in the convertible? Oh, that was me. As long as it isn't raining or snowing, I crank the top down and let the wind blow. I choose to have the wind toss my hair wildly.

I find it one of life's little pleasures. As I drove to a doctor appointment, I felt healthy & carefree. Driving to pick up yet another prescription, the sun felt warm, in spite of the arctic air. Besides, my car has a heating system. It is akin to sitting in the glow of a fireplace, with the snow outside. It isn't necessary, but it makes one feel warm and cozy.