I don’t know why you waved at me as you drove past Publix. The truth of the answer matters not as you kept driving leaving my mind to complete its own question. I choose to believe that you found some sort of kindredness of spirit, some commonality in appreciation of enjoying the glorious weather days when they come. I choose to believe that you waved because something kept you from stopping even though you wanted to join me as much as I would have liked to have been your passenger. Some days it doesn’t matter where you’re going.
Thanks, I needed that.