The Quiet that Followed

This, Carlsbad Caverns, was the only territory that I retraced on my way back east. I couldn't resist the chance to stop at the yawning chasm in the beautiful, sparse desert to the north of the Guadalupe Mountains and El Paso. Looking on as I made the drive on the familiar road, I tried to see myself on this same road a year ago and I wondered what I would tell myself. Keep your foot on the pedal was all I could come up with.

I ate Texas in decent fashion and the light switch flipped just past Cisco and West became East which is your actual continental divide. Springtime green showed freshly and a tunnel of oak, maple, and pine soon cut away at the sky and left a ribbon of blue to point the way. I was shocked to find my mother's famous azaleas already in striking red and pink blooms. Hopefully the ones at Augusta National are under refrigeration tents because the Masters is still not until next week. Great to be away from the superhighway but I do miss the wide open two-lane blacktops cutting through the ghostly sunsets of Wild America. I think Neal Cassady would be happy with the effort.