Sonic

On Thursday I drove to the Columbus airport to pick up a friend. Having a car is possibly one of the most significant conveniences I have experienced this year. And driving is incredibly relaxing for me. As soon as I pull out of the parking lot and get on the open road, everything becomes a blur of soft colors whizzing by my window. It's as if my troubles are the houses and barns and empty fields that, while they may catch my eye for a moment, pass by and out of my line of vision without another thought. Sitting alone in my old Toyota Camry is one of the only times I sing aloud at school. That is probably the most relaxing part of my day.

Driving anywhere from or in rural Ohio is always an adventure. I can never understand the layout of the roads, and for some reason everything is named in numbers. 13, 36, 661, 62, 71... The list goes on. If you are unfamiliar with the intricately woven geography of back streets and interstates, then traveling can be rather treacherous. As we made our way across the almost vacant landscape and down those vein-like roads that lead us through the heartland of America, I couldn't help but notice the tragedy of my unfamiliarity with my home state.

What struck me the most was how the barns, set back against the grey and straw-colored landscape, somehow made red a natural color.

On our way back to Gambier, we stopped at a Sonic Drive-In. Pulling up to the menu, I felt summer wash over me. I honestly have no idea how many times I go to Sonic during the months of June, July, and August, but let's just say that it was enough for me to have serious withdrawal symptoms while I'm at school. As I took the first sip of my strawberry limeade chiller, I closed my eyes and breathed in an extraordinarily taste-tantalizing, creamy freshness and smiled.