This evening, driving east on I-90, I came over a hill and saw a line of light blue a few degrees above the horizon. This has happened countless times this month and it always makes me wonder whether I’m looking at a line of clouds or a mountain range.
Today when I asked myself that question, I didn’t have to drive any further to know the answer. From now on, there will be no mountain ranges to spot on the horizon.
I’m back in the plains, back in Central Time, and back east of the Missouri River . That’s not to say that today was without intrigue or that I don’t have other exciting things planned for my remaining 4 days on the road, but ever since leaving California Yosemite and Sequoia, I knew it would all be a bit downhill from there. While I’ve certainly enjoyed just about every destination since there (especially Mt. St. Helens and Grand Teton ) and don’t regret any of the stops I’ve made, there has been a growing sense that things are drawing to a close. And in today’s moment of sudden realization, that drum beat grew louder.
I don’t want to linger on that sentiment too much, because it certainly wasn’t my dominant mood for the day.
