The bite of morning

Enya reminds me of my Aunt's place in West Covina. It's like a half hour drive from San Gabriel where the rest of the family live, and she hates the drive up, especially at night.
To say it's "up in the mountains" would sound super far away and fairytale-like, but I don't know how else to put it.

It's colder, because it's just that bit higher. The drive is peaceful and quiet. Not always literally. I mean, when you look out the window at what you're passing by.

And when we wake up before the sun, scrambling for our clothes and waiting for each other to finish in the shower before setting off for Vegas, she's got Enya on the CD Player making me feel like I'm on a mountain, which I am,
and like I'll step out into the bite of LA's winter morning, which I do.