Most of the time, I am actively trying to ignore life as I drive. I use driving time to sing and ponder. I don't know where this habit came from, but I don't care about anything around me when I'm behind the wheel.
But, sometimes, on particularly beautiful days, I am suddenly keenly aware that I am driving on a twisting concrete bridge overpass, and it looks like I am jetting into the sky! Driving directly into clouds! This is the stuff 18th Century dreams are made of! Isn't that nuts? I soar in my whizzing metallic box closer and closer to the moon!