On the Road

You learn things about yourself on the road.  I love driving in Texas.  As a mountain girl, the flatness intrigues me.  The way the road stretches  so far, so little to distract the eye.  We pass a windmill farm that stretches for miles – giant white arms spinning slowly over cotton, over burnt red earth, over houses and wire fences.  This gives way slowly to nubby stumps of hills dotted with low-lying trees or tall bushes, peppered with horses or black bulls.

That Texas sky is so big, the sun takes twice as long to sink down under the scrubby land.  I watch the blues ease into pink, the pinks into deep soft purple.  And in the great distance, something twinkles in the near-darkness.

A grey ribbon slides under our wheels, pulling those lights closer.


Your blatherings

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