Heart's Land

A mighty, mighty wind battered us all the morning through the rising of the sun over the swirling green fields of Kansas, pushing the FJ to the north while I compensated to keep her heading west. The wind has left us now and we find Ginsberg's Denver Doldrums by the tracks where Neal Cassady's father laid down his hammer.

The Rockies sit in front of us and block the way with granite, limestone, snow, ice, wind, and the threat of the occasional thunderbolt. Uncanny. Beyond, the continental divide will send us tumbling down the Colorado plateau and the brown earth and green plush will quite suddenly give way to the shocking stark orange and red rocks that seem to occur punctually at the Utah border.

The next days and nights will be spent pressed to the living sandstone that cradles Moab and the Cretaceous landscape. May we slip through the elements.