Soon on some magnificent bastard of a morning...

...when the mountains are looming just so, and the sun has vaulted itself up out of the eastern ocean and into the sky;
when the highway rolls north all the way past the city of sparkling sidewalks and into the deep wine country;
when enough veils have dropped;
when the music matches;
when the dance steps are synchronous:
then we'll see who's traveling where, and when.

Won't we.