I checked my not-so-smart cell phone to see how much further I had to go. One small bar still showed, like a nasty smudge, in the upper left corner, telling me I’d gone far, but not far enough. Good. A bit further and what passes for civilization would be a fading image in my rearview mirror.
Kansas, a great place to go when just going is the goal. A place to get off the highway, where you can stand on a rise of land and see beyond your dreams; where the distinctive song of a meadowlark interrupts then overrides the fluttering of flags, where the best view does not have to compete with litter on a stick.
It’s a place where you can stand and look inside yourself when the outside you is not what it used to be.
It’s a place where you ask yourself if you’ve gone the right direction, then realize, it doesn’t matter. The choices you made would put you right where you are—all roads lead to where you stand.
And if you stand at the right spot in Chase County, as I did, listen to history that might be wind in the barbed wire, or maybe music coming from an open barn door, squint your eyes a bit, tilt your head and give free reign to your imagination, ghosts of the past in this western land might come into focus.
No comments:
Post a Comment