Late Nights

I sat motionless, my eyes straight on the road ahead. The Beatles drifted lazily out of the radio, swirling melodies around the car before drifting out the open window to croon to the stars. My thoughts swirled in tune to the melodies, but quieter so as not to disturb my copilot.

45 more miles, just 45 more miles, I thought to myself, shifting my grip on the wheel to stretch out a muscle in my shoulder. I glanced over to make sure my passenger still dozed comfortably, and rolled my window up a bit more to quiet the sound of the car going 75 on a small country highway.

The red light from the clock on the dashboard seared the time into my eyes and my brain as I hazarded a glance in their general direction. 1 AM. Not too late I hope. We'd planned on turning in by midnight at the latest, but that hadn't quite worked out.

It had been a long day, but the journey was just beginning. We'd done the circuit, said our goodbyes, and now we were almost ready to stop for the night. Almost, but not quite. No, I'd begged that we go until we hit the next state, a marker that always excited me. 30 miles to the border, 30 miles more of sleep. I glanced over to the passenger seat again, as if to assure myself that it was real, that I was finally leaving it all behind.

The warm wind blew in threw the open windows, cooling my legs from the sticky heat that still plastered them to my seat. I threw my head back a little bit more and felt the wind blow my hair about my head, teasing and caressing me as only midnight summer breezes can do. The lines of trees alongside the nearly-abandoned highway danced along with my hair in the rhythm of the wind and the crickets sang along in joyful nighttime symphony.

I love night driving. I love the freedom that comes with roads that are never busy, breezes that are never quiet, night sounds that never cease, and stars that shine bright as the day they were born. I love watching the moon rise, sometimes full and sometimes just a sliver in the sky. I love the sunset right before dark that lights up half the sky in colorful display while leaving the other half to its deep blue darkness. I love the quite hum of the engine, the soothing movement of the car, the lazy drones of the quiet late-night oldies stations. I quite romanticize the notion of a late night car trip.

Someday I shall just get in the car and drive, and drive, and drive. I shall leave at sunset, with the sun bidding a dim farewell over the edge of the horizon and shall not stop until the same sun cheerfully bids me a bright good-morning at the other horizon. What adventure to drive the whole night through and sleep through the busy, busy day!

I shook my head clear of my rambling thoughts as we neared the next state border. I leaned over to shake awake my dozing copilot, but paused to reconsider. I'm the one who really cares, so maybe sleep is better for now. I pulled my hand back to the wheel to reconsider, but as if in answer to my thoughts I saw movement and heard stirring.

I raised my voice over the wind to speak. "Five more miles to the border, then we can find a place to stop. Is that okay?"

"Yeah."

We lapsed back into silence, and sleep stold back upon the lucky inhabitant of the passenger seat. I picked up the travel mug next to me to check for any stray drops of caffeine left in it. One more swallow of room temperature tea. Guess it's better than falling asleep at the wheel. I chugged it down, grimacing a bit at the lack of distinguishable temperature, and set the mug back down. At least the taste was refreshing me from what was the beginning of drowsiness.

Daydreams (or maybe waking night dreams) drifted through my mind of soft beds, mounds of warm blankets, fluffy pillows, darkened rooms, silence and peace. The reality of twenty minutes later was barely separable from the reality I dreamed of to my waking mind the next morning. Don't you just love that distinctly blurred line between our sleepy daydreams and what really happened? It's like trying to distinguish dreams from reality.