sometimes just the sun on your skin makes all the difference, cresting over the span, the murky skyline pans left to right, not sure if this is smog, or clouds, or both, driving through what was once a mountain, cleared with the efficient explosive delight of dynamite, just so traffic could have a smoother flight, from the meadowlands low up through the once high, at least compared to the low wetlands below and surround, the miles of refineries and oil storage tanks, quite a strange stretch I suppose, for those unfamiliar, for me my daily hike up the turnpike, an ancient name, are we so far removed from that though? a literal striped stick lowered across the road until a toll is paid, we still have essentially the same thing these days, makes you wonder how little it takes to corral us in, surely those sticks are not packing enough umph to stop a truck or a even a determined hybrid at that, but we do not, we allow ourselves to be hemmed in, civility, the norms, the expected, the daily drive stretches into months, even years, then there is something, sometimes, just a little sun on your skin. on the right day, in the right angle, in the right way, a gentle warming to lift you above the low level fray, a reminder of days past, summer and spring, freedom under the reign of the sun, long days, staying out past eight just to play until called to dinner by mom’s bell clarion call (hey, this was before cell phones), all these memories locked in skin, the simplest of things, the sun on my skin, instant recognition of memories unlocked within…