Desert Boy

Rolling down a grassy hill until you’re dizzy. Wet from the dew, feeling like a kid again. Take off your clothes and go for a swim. No one is around for miles. Just you and the flowers and the trees, alone together. The sun warms you up and dries you off. You’re living in a Monet painting.

Smells like: somewhere worth driving to. Looks like: he's been there before.