In the general connotation of the word, a joyride is a negative thing. It usually means you've stolen a car, and whether you're planning on just enjoying the road and returning it or keeping it, it's against the law and certainly warrants arrest. But I look at it in a different context: the joyride; a ride of joy, happiness, contentment.
After the Ash Wednesday service tonight, upon driving my friend home, I headed home myself. Of late the sun has set before I get home; but tonight was the first time in quite some time I noticed that it was just yet still aloft for a fleeting moment. And you know those few minutes that occur between when the sun starts dipping below the horizon and disappears completely? The time when the sky turns bright pink and vibrant orange, sometimes even a robust red? I witnessed it in all its glory for the seven minutes or so I drove home. At a wonderful temperature of 60 degrees or so, the beautiful rich hues of color, a picturesque wall of clouds in the distance that created a blanket over a portion of the color, listening to soothing music, and it was nothing short of perfection. When I got home, I flipped out my phone and attempted to take a picture to share it with you all... but the moment was gone; I had missed capturing it. That, and my phone camera blows some serious chunks (only has 1MP for those of you who are tech-savvy).
Sometimes the fleeting moments are the best ones. And while there are countless times they are captured and immortalized, often it's a memory of perfection that beats a picture any day. Because at the end of all things, anyone can view a photograph say it's nice. But only you can look back on your memory, and smile at its warmth.