“Where ya headed?” He had a kind face, weathered from decades of life spent out here. Every breath of wind and the beaming sun working without resistance to create a living interpretation of the cracking, parched ground he walked upon. “Im not sure!” My excitement associated with those words seemed surprising to him. It was true, I promised myself I wouldn’t look at a map. “Beautiful day, beautiful country, have fun.” I thanked him and relayed similar sentiments. Food, water, daylight and private property were in abundance. The road continued though. I may have gotten it confused with an arroyo a time or two. Wildflowers, handmade mailboxes, a dog, rocks, lizards, rocks, sand, more rocks and a woman waving from her shaded porch. West Texas intimacy.
