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Eastward, Ho!

“What if we went east?”

The West is best. Graves marked with plastic flowers, wrapped in barbed wire silhouettes pink and red. Thumbs up for The Pawnee Buttes. For wind turbines, flat horizons, weird plants, orange and black. Everything gets fuzzy as night falls and the horizon starts blinking red. Yellow and pink. Up, around bright corners and down. Wry smiles and small hops in wide open spaces.

And then we tried to raft the Platte and ran afoul of the law, but that is a story for another day.