Je me sens la monde, mais je suis trop occupé

As I careen down the hard black river that penetrates what once was nature, I notice the busyness. Inspiration is everywhere. In everything. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the feeling of it all. Even the sweet taste of the air that can be sensed after you have been indoors for a while. My windows rolled down, the smell of freshly cut grass playfully dances around my nostrils as it twirls through my car. I'm reminded of rolling in the front yard as a kid. Grass stained and itchy, but still the happiest I've ever been. I'm slightly squinting due to untinted windows and a dislike for sunglasses. The afternoon sun is burning as bright as ever. A broken radio forces me to listen to mother nature's own symphony. The wind rushes across my ears, roaring in gleeful strength. The birds chirping, bees buzzing, the horns honking. Wait something is out of place. Focus again. Wander later. I hate putting off my love of this, the planet earth.