When you look out the window, you see the highway and I see the trees. The pixels connect thoughts of the city from the country. This is the best time of the year, when kids climb into trees to scream Supremes songs. When corn gets thrown at siding strewn houses. When garish trees are just about ready for bulbs and garland. The year is almost over and I'm looking outside my window some more and I wish I could be looking out the windshield, or better yet, the rear view mirror, seeing this town and this state in the dust as sail is set for towns only read about.

Photo - N
Words - S