I was westbound for Chicago. The sun was setting.  I got off the interstate-because nothing of interest ever happens on the interstate-and hit the county roads. The car windows were down, some country rock and roll star was singing on the radio.  The sky was turning dark.  I parked on the shoulder, turned everything off, got out of the car and looked out across the fields. I was 10 miles from any man made noise.  I stood on the edge of the farm, the dirt prepped for planting.  The wind picked up. Rain later, maybe. Springtime in Indiana.