Aubrie Edmond, Contributing Writer

Last weekend my boyfriend and I decided to abandon civilization and drive up into the mountains for a few days. We drove six hours from the bay to northern California down windy roads that pushed the limits of my boyfriend’s Mazda. My boyfriend and I travel together often, but we rarely go on drives like this. This is the longest drive we’ve done alone together since I’ve only been driving for less than a year, and I knew he was happy that I could finally help him out with the driving. Driving has been making me nervous recently. I get this feeling that I’m losing focus and that terrifies me. I no longer seem to know what I’m supposed to look at, what I’m supposed to pay attention to. It’s seemed like such a chore recently, the only barrier between me and exploring the outside world. It feels like everyone else on the road is out to get me, not even by their own accord, but because they’re probably more unfocused than I am. Even though I feel myself shrinking into my own world a bit when I’m driving, I still have the reflexes of a cat, I’ve got nine lives to spare.

Miranda, California is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It’s breathtaking, all the redwood forests and rivers and rolling hills. We really wanted to see the stars in a way we’d never seen them before, but the moon was too bright to see more than we normally could. I do well with disappointment, and I always try to find the beauty in things. This was no different: I relished in the beauty of the lazy summer night, surrounded by the mountains and the trees and the bugs and the animals, filling my lungs with crisp summer air.