Change of Scenery

In Texas, finally, the trees drop away and the horizon recedes and space expands further and further until we look around finally at scrub and sand and distant hills and know we have found the desert.

Route 20 headed wes

The sky has changed as well as the land, the color deeper, the clouds pronounced and discrete, bands of rain in the distance clearly distinguishable, distinguishable that is until we drive straight through the middle of one and lose our bearings, pulling over finally with Hazard lights blinking to avoid mishap.

Route 20 headed west

A car pulls up with flashing lights and the officer that leaps out into the drenching rain knocks urgently on our window to insist that we get off the highway entirely, the risk of collision profound even in the median. We comply.

Route 20 headed west

The storm passes quickly, but we will dodge others throughout the day. The 20 dies into the 10 at the western edge of Texas, and we head north towards El Paso. To our left, the great Mexican expanse, ahead of us the Sonoron Desert and New Mexico and Arizona. Ahead, a new life. I drive with a growing sense of strangeness, thinking about myths, and of Cormac McCarthy.

El Paso, United States