… flood water flowing through grass down the hill from my house.
… in Green River, Utah.
… in the sky above I-80 in southern Wyoming. From my 2015 trip, re-edited.
Sometimes when you’re driving in the West, you see a thunderstorm. It’s far off, still nascent, an indistinct dark smudge on the horizon perhaps a hundred miles away.
In the East, you don’t see a storm so far ahead. That’s because you can’t see the fullness of the storm until it’s literally over your head. In the East, the sky is smaller — topography, tall buildings, and trees obscure the horizon.
In the West, you keep driving toward that still-small gray mass. You look to the side through the driver’s window and see blue sky dotted with puffy cumulus clouds. You look out the passenger window; you see the same pastoral placidity. There’s psychological comfort in those little white pearls floating in the blue sky beside you. But in front of you?
… over Wilkins, Nevada, off Route 93.
… along Route 359 in Montana, en route to Yellowstone National Park.
Actually, three storms converging. In many places in the West, the entire storm can be seen. Here, driving through south-central Wyoming, I saw five — yes, five — thunderstorms in the sky around me. Out here, the sky is so, so big …