"I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat."
Sometimes I harbor a deep nostalgia for things, that upon first impression, were not impacting at all. Perhaps yet another side effect of getting older and/or wiser: the appreciation for things you never meant to appreciate. Or maybe it's just the artist in me. Seeing lines, patterns, colors, incredible light and texture, depth and layers in moments as mundane as sitting at a red light on a surface road. Looking out your window through the rain and wondering if the concrete and grass have always looked so beautiful or if maybe there's something in the water today.
Beyond the striking lines and symmetry, I was drawn to this scene because it reminded me of a moment. Or really a string of moments. Driving through another state, my feet propped up on the window, watching the treeline and sky blur and streak. Watching, still, as it began to pour buckets and this song popped up on the playlist. So we sang along, wishing we were closer to something we didn't know we truly needed. Wishing the rain and road would never end.