I managed to write one post while I was
traveling, and then never had an opportunity to load it! How rude, I
know. I have lots and lots of photos to share, some poetry, and a few
grand ideas . . all in the few days before I leave for my
Long Beautiful Drive back to Ohio. Hopefully I can fit it all in, and
hopefully I'll have access to more internet for that trip. So, here's
my one post I wrote on the second day:
I couldn't help but take in the land
around me yesterday. I drove 17hrs through Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas,
Nebraska, and finally, South Dakota. Today my brother and I will be
seeing the Badlands, Devils Tower, Mount Rushmore and potentially
Crazy Horse Monument.
As I type, slowly rolling hills that
make the ever expanding South Dakota horizon creep past the window.
The sun has risen behind us, giving the land a dusty haze to its
golden strands. A million yellow signs dot the road, advertising the
Petrified Garden (family owned and operated) and, of course, Robert
reads each of them aloud with satirical enthusiasm.
This is a good morning. It is the only
morning. I am very much in danger of falling in love with waking up
to open air and nothing but the sun on the horizon. I think I'll let
myself fall.
Oklahoma was beautiful. I was so
thankful for the drive through the OK state because the whole first
half smelled like corn: beautiful, stringy, pungent corn. I have
always loved the smell of it in Ohio, but never quite to this full
appreciation. I really do love Oklahoma. I found myself singing Tell
Me Something Bad About Tulsa and thinking how I could be a farmer. I
could be an Okie.
At first I was very sad to be in
Kansas. The interstate we took until well past Topeka was extremely
boring, but after turning down the country roads I was taken by the
land again. Everything in Kansas was golden and ablaze. There are so
few trees! The few large hills gave miles upon miles of horizon to my
eyes. It was so hot that I dripped from anywhere my skin was touched,
like my body had been tapped as a water source by anything that so
much as gently grazed my leg. I would have written Kansas off. I'm so
thankful it didn't let me.
As a Texas Longhorn, Nebraska is
synonymous with Corn Husker . . . but nothing could have prepared me
for the sheer amount of corn growing there, or as my brother said,
“they've got that huskin' shit down.” It's unfortunate that by
the time I may have noticed something other than the corn in
Nebraska, it was dark and I was beginning to get loopy from
exhaustion. Maybe I'll catch you on the flip side, Nebraska.
South Dakota . . . ah, South Dakota is
a post of its own.
Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
