Heaven or Hell Is Just a Commute Away, a Commute Away

As a commuter-voyeur, there's only so much you can do at a stop light -- especially in the dark. A moment before I took this, the hellish commuter in front of me was puffing up his hair or something. He only looks hellish because of the brake and tail lights of the vehicle in front of him. There's nothing unusual about drivers performing all kinds morning primpin' in the car. Sometimes I use my rear-view mirror to play I Spy -- I spy a woman putting on lip liner, I spy a man with a phone cradled between his shoulder and ear, I spy almost everyone drinking or eating something. It's what we 'mericans do, my dahlink Treybooshkas. We stay busy, for good cause and not.

But all was not lost this morning. After the rise and decline to Missouri City and the flat farmland that flows from it, I saw these clouds nestling around silos, out buildings and electric lines. The pastel hue gives the scene a warmth and cotton-ball softness that was rarely featured in my commutes through the grit, grime and siren time of my commutes in previous lifetimes. Not to get all feely-huggy here, but the commute to Ray County has been a transformational experience that never seems to get old. So my Treybooshays, tune in next time for more magic from the found highway.