Singing at the top of your lungs as you drive down the interstate with the window down, be it Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars, Elton John, or whatever.
Sitting on your front porch as the light goes out of another autumn evening.
Cracking open the spine of a new book on aforementioned porch. All the possibility.
A mason jar of sweet, sweet Southern tea.
The smell of burning charcoal from a neighbor's grill.
Discovering the power of words all over again, how they can make your heart full when written beautifully, with meaning.
Not thinking, "What about tomorrow?"
A perfectly browned grilled cheese. And make it Muenster cheese.
And finally, the sound of the train as you lie in bed to sleep, drifting, drifting, drif-