The car has been acting strangely as of late. Well not that most would notice, but I drive him enough that I can see it, or more feel it. The car is warm on the last run of the day. The heaters actually do their jobs. I can put down the hood on my jacket, doff my cap, ditch the gloves and no matter what the weather outside may be I'm suddenly and for the first time all day comfortable in my little British Racing Green cocoon. It's a rather remarkable feeling, very much like the smug feeling you get when driving in the rain.
It was nice tonight, a light snow was falling and I just rode along listing to the engine and watching for rough spots. There was just enough light to illuminate the countryside and it was a delightful motor home. I'm so glad I get to enjoy these moments with my car. Moments where time seems to stop, worries and cares vanish, and all that remains is the ten minute drive through rural Montana in a real winter wonderland. And I'm taking the time to look around at the view, and noticing maybe for the first time the snow on the fence posts and the way the mountains look so much different covered in in green and white. I think I shall try and motor north one of these days so I can enjoy more of it. And if able, I suggest you do the same.