We Live in a Beautiful Country
Driving across Texas a few days ago, I was awed by the sweeping distance and the wild sky. I keep thinking about how big the mountains were, and how they, in turn, were dwarfed by the clouds. Each mile along Interstate 10 brought another amazing view, all the way to California. We have nothing like it back in Connecticut, where trees crowd the hilly roads of my home, and I felt like I was roaming a new planet.
As a writer, I can take my work with me any place, but I didn’t write while we were on our road trip across the country. I looked out the windows and soaked it all in, hour after hour, where each minute equals a mile. I don’t know yet how it changed me, or how the trip might affect the novel I’m drafting, but I feel deepened. That’s enough for now.