Good morning. ⏰🔔🛎️20 September 2025My car has push-button transmission controls—a bit of a throwback, really. I remember seeing similar setups in luxury cars from the ’50s and ’60s. Back then, they had novelty, but not coolness. Four-on-the-floor was the thing, and in some circles, it still is. When I first got the car, I kept reaching for a shifter on the console. My hand would hover midair, unsure, and it still does sometimes. Eventually, I reach all the way to the dash and press R or D. Sadly, there’s no W for warp.Talking about cars feels strange right now—déjà vu-ish. I just remembered a dream from last night. I was fixing up an old ’56 Chevy. In the dream, I’d bought new tires for it. Funny thing is, I actually drove a ’57 Chevy as a teenager, but I definitely never bought new tires. Dreams borrow memory like it’s on loan.Next step in the dream was getting a new engine. Then someone—maybe me, maybe us—suggested trying to start the old one first. It didn’t start. Then we realized: maybe it was just out of gas. So off to the station we went, and sure enough, the engine came to life. But there was a detail that didn’t quite add up. Before starting it, we’d checked the oil and found it was mostly water. Still, the engine ran, and we planned to change the oil ASAP. The car was stored in a rustic wooden garage, the kind that smells like dust and old tools.Dreams don’t always make sense. After all, I can sometimes fly in them.“Memory is not frozen, it's very much alive, it moves, it changes.” — Louis Malle“Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?” — Alfred Lord Tennyson“Cars are the sculptures of our everyday lives.” — Chris #photo #photography #photographer #photographylovers #nature #morning #cars #dreams #plants