From a past we left in a place we knew too well.

I love the look of headlights through the fog. It resides on a list of my favorite images stored in my memory. The fog is as thick as peanut butter tonight, and would be a cue for most to stay in. But I'm not normal.

I run to my car because the cold is almost unbearable and sit in it for ten minutes as the ice melts off my windows. Then something wonderful happens. I venture down the first street and see those headlights. Soft and dreamy, I'm put into an almost celluloid state as I pass down the streets that overlook the Redding lights. Familiar places seem ghost-like and eerie with this cloud cover and cold. I drive by the graveyards, half expecting to see the dead crawling out of their graves and wandering discretely down the streets like I am.

The music that radiates out of my car speakers and travels through the spaces in my mind is slightly muffled and everything begins to feel like a dream. Blurred corners, soft light, and familiar places in an unfamiliar state are everywhere. The harsh cold is subsided by a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. It slowly moves to my heart and I begin to smile like a renewed Grinch.

My adventure out is nearly over as my street sign nears. I pull into my driveway, exit my vehicle, and the warm feeling is gone. It's twenty degrees again and the fog is gone. I sit down in front of my computer wondering where and how I can get that feeling again.

There's no place like home.