I set out on a curvy, windy highway to meet my family for lunch in a nearby town. Fields of corn and soybeans rolled by.

After lunch, we drove to the family property, where a pear tree stood heavy with fruit, its branches bowing low under the weight. Mom and I wandered through the grass, picking pears warm from the sun, their skin freckled and sweet-smelling.

The day felt like a little treasure we’d stumbled upon—no plan, no rush, just the sweet reward of going wherever the day decided to take us.