I have had a love affair with convertibles since my father brought home a butter colored 1964 Ford Mustang convertible as old as I was, for me to drive at 16. A surprise.  Since then, I’ve purchased my own convertibles. I discovered at 16 I like the sky on my head and the songs of birds and leaves rustling as I pass.

The world on your head, invites ideas.

It invites wonder and hope.

It blows story around in interesting ways.

On this particular voting day, having voted already, I am taking a convertible ride, with the top down in November and letting a story of democracy blow over my head.

The color of this beautiful fall was a good companion, might have even saved me.  This is a recent drive from outside my car.  I wonder what you do to fuel the hope and creativity?