When the radio in my car broke I started to notice the
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFhLQtZSrYq7lir65vZ0WvqTfsZXI0i04B9OFYNzvfJPrw6GmnPIfXFlplC1peFYZgdHBGPkE47OYfLAb4ZvhxosHt5BRkgrJx5RJX_b_YJla-I6CSJZ01f-Y4a8gircjbx_-6o7e3KqY/s200/hands-on-steering-wheel-car.jpg)
I began to stop exaggerating the color of leaves,
how their reds and oranges needed no wordy
embellishment.
I started to open the window and smell the wet
pavement
after morning rain. Crows on the phone line,
their blackness and stubborn dignity. I even noticed my
hands
gripping the wheel, the small dark hairs, the skin,
the knuckles and the perfect blue veins.
Photography credit: Unknown (originally color).
Thank you for share
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