Every time we go for a drive, Natalie wants her window open. We usually let her, as long as it isn't raining, and we aren't on the highway. It reminds me of how I used to do that all the time, too.
Nowadays, when I leave home in the morning to go to work, I often turn on the radio or at least start to mentally prepare for the workday ahead. But the other morning, I decided to follow Natalie's example instead. I opened my window and tried to really see, really listen.
It was a beautiful morning with blue, sunny skies. The morning dew was glittering on the grass, looking like lots of little faries had been there just moments before, leaving shimmering fairy dust behind. There were many, many flowers in the ditch, in blue and yellow and white.
The birds were singing. At the stop sign, there was a truck. I could hear it go vroom-vroom, and I could imagine Natalie saying "That's a BIG Truck".
I could smell the freshness of the morning. You know, that smell of flowers and dew and trees that gives so many promises for the new day.
I used to drive with my window open. Lately, I've been doing it a lot again. It's just one more thing I've learned (or re-learned) from Natalie.