The soft synths start you off, like a warm drive in a car with the window cracked in fall, and the scintillating harp kicks in and wavers from L to R, the road passes... the narrow roads, the little valleys, mist in the morning, all alone on the drive and cars passing and driving too fast. And it was gentle but there was turbulence too—and you can't go too deep, or you'll end up uncovering things no one here wants to talk about. But they should.