eastern nevada. november 2009.
as i drove west, home, from utah. a warm afternoon as i crossed the border, and a frosty, fast dawn the next day, mid-state. the clouds, the colors, the rolling shadows and road. a dead coyote on the side of the road, frozen stiff. a pure, clean aloneness, so right in such an empty, open place. huddled grasses growing out of the road's shoulder. everything dry, crisp. lizards in the day sun, birds flying home–to where?–at dusk. a cold welcome, but the feeling of belonging just the same.
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