Does anyone else like driving backroads?

I don’t know why I love driving backroads so much. Maybe it’s the idea behind. The idea that backroads are like an escape. I can just keep driving and driving until I run out of road.

Maybe it’s my way of leaving without actually going anywhere.

It doesn’t matter the time of day. It could be in the early morning or the middle of the night. There is just something about driving empty roads. Something about getting away from the busyness of life.

A grassy hill in the distance. A farm over there. Maybe a few horses walking around. A herd of cows to the left. Woods to the right.

It’s like freedom to know that at any point, I can just grab my keys and go. Go drive around the country, blasting country music (yes, I’m cliche like that), and think about life.

Nature is where I feel most connected to God. I think it’s where I find myself. Open land, with far less people around. I feel like I’m exactly where I belong.

That’s not to say I don’t like cities. I do. But there is something alluring about the country. About the peacefulness of nature. Of simple life. Just being.

Sometimes, I drive the backroads until I reach a trailhead. And then I just walk. Listening to the sounds of trees blowing in the wind, (okay, I know it’s cliche) taking in the scenery, and listening to the sound of my heart.

You know that Sylvia Plath quote from The Bell Jar? It goes, “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’”

That’s how I feel when I’m surrounded by nature.

When I’m driving backroads with no destination in mind. Just me, my car, and the open road.

Can anyone else relate?

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