Just back from a 6000-mile crosscountry trip, out to and back from Tucson. Not something I planned to do as a road trip alone, but plans change, both willfully and by circumstance. Two weeks total, with 10 of those days behind the wheel. Loveless highway hotels, gas station sandwiches with better left unknown origins, 80-degree fluctuation in temperature from start to middle to finish, and always the land ahead unfolding, flattening, rising, with horizons and mirages indistinguishable after 600-mile plus days. Sometimes, my mind's eye was the virtual reality, sometimes the landscape. Some roads hummed, some whined, some bassooned, some were silent as glass.
Accents and hospitalities and accommodations changed like clouds, and I passed through America's metropoli and rural Brobdingnagians like a bullet in freeze-frame.
To not know what comes next, to never feel static, to always be in the grip of wonder, anxiety, fear and curiosity.