We drove for 12 hours yesterday across Colorado's cheery sunflower lined highways, passing miles and miles of ten-story tall metal scarecrows waving long slender Mercedes Benz-looking arms in a chorus line performance. These graceful monsters whirled in perfect time as if to some invisible director's wand, standing erect in mute attention, reaping energy from the wind.
Briefly into the northwest corner of Oklahoma, we pass a train with engines hooked at both ends which appeared to be driving backwards. Sunlight, cutting through all the connecting spaces between each of the heavily laden coal cars, created an entertaining dance of flickering light onto the dark shadowed grasses of the hillside below. This light was so dazzling it could be seen for miles. Then on the side of a rocky mount, outside one of the many little towns we passed by, a small white cross and round stones spelled out the words, "St. Mark's Methodist Church" thus giving new meaning to the words, "Upon this rock I will build my church." Let's face it, you have to find something to keep your mind occupied on these long stretches of highway. : )
Late in the day we are warmly greeted by the "Welcome to Texas" sign. The sun had now crept lower in the sky ready to begin its magic work of transformation. Seemingly dried-up and dead grasses along the road and in the fields are suddenly painted into deep rich fertile lands accentuated by the lengthening shadows of evening. I stare transfixed, snapping photos right and left, for a stunning recital of the sea of orange, violet, pink, fiery red, golden yellow, deep purple and blue gray clouds that have lined up in a caravan-style procession of light, marching their way to ultimate destruction at the end of the sky...swallowed up into the mouth of night.