For 24 years my morning commute has taken me past a racetrack. Occasionally, peeking over the freeway, I could see the horses on the track, or catch a delicious whiff of horse while sitting in otherwise urban traffic and listening to NPR.
Recently the track shut down, which is ok because I like horses more than racing. I embraced the end of an era by looking at the auction of racetrack assets, and surprised myself by not needing anything from it. I have wondered if there was anything to replace the track's impact. What sensory interruption would waken me during my drive? Fate has provided me a new joy -- a communal kitchen has popped up along the freeway. Several times a week, on that same drive, I now smell crisping garlic, even with my car windows closed.
That is my Friday joy.
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