"September and October are always the worst," Rudebacher says dreamily. "You just hear it calling. The birds hear it, too, and go."
"It?"
Rudebacher gives him a look that says don't be stupid. "With them it's the sky. Guys like us, it's the road. Call of the open fuckin road. Guys like me, kids in school and a wife that still likes it more than just on Saturday night, they turn up the radio a little louder and drown it out. You're not gonna do that."
S. King, Wolves of the Calla