Sleepy Sundays: The Drive

The Drive
The Drive

(Click to view larger)

We spend a lot of our time on this planet in cars. These days most of us are in a rush – all headed to our respective destinations with great anticipation. One of my favorite memories as a child was the hour and a half long night drives down to the shore with my grandfather. We had a shore house that our whole family used year round as a second home. For some reason, we always headed down there during the night. I have fond memories of gliding over bridges while peeking out to all the lights bouncing off the water.

These visuals still enter my dreams to this day.

There’s a very special song and artist I’d like to tag along with my artwork this Sunday. Not only do I feel this song goes with my art perfectly, but I’m also very proud to feature them as they are someone close to me. You’ll hear more about that on Monday, though – during our interview. (& Yes, my photography on his account was used with permission.)

Let us know what you think! Mark will be visiting CardCastles periodically to take any questions and respond to any comments you may have about his music.

Have you ever taken a night drive? What were some of the sights you took in? What d r i v e s you?

Have a driven Sunday!

(& To all those that celebrate, have a very Happy Easter Sunday as well!)

8 thoughts on “Sleepy Sundays: The Drive

  1. The best night drive I ever had was when I was moving across the country with my husband. We left Washington State in the afternoon and were in Montana by nightfall… It was beautiful, with the full moon above and tall pines on all sides as we wound through the mountains…

    Thank you for sharing the memories of your grandfather — that sounds like a wonderful time you two had.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh how I love the stunning visuals of your story! I got such gorgeous pictures in my head as I read your words. That is the gift of a great writer.

      Thank you for reading & stopping in, dear. Your comments were a pleasure to read.



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