"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat.
We smoked the last one an hour ago.
So I looked at the scenery,
She read her magazine,
And the moon rose over an open field."
The last line, in particular, feels like the heart of the song.
When I drew this pastel, several weeks ago, we were still lost in our fight with cancer, not knowing yet the good news we had shortly afterward. And I was anticipating our annual trip to the mountains to put our lives back together. And though I do not understand how all of these things align, I feel how deeply they do.