Hopeful
I couldn't tell what kind of car it was. It was already past me, red taillights disappearing into the valley before I could think.
Maybe it didn't matter. Whatever was under that hood, it was moving toward the sunrise — the way this era lurches toward the next. If it's an EV, the driver knows Range Anxiety. That particular modern arithmetic: distance remaining, chargers ahead, the gap between them.
But they're going.
The road is long.
The infrastructure is still catching up.
Transition isn't over. The direction is clear.