… flood water flowing through grass down the hill from my house.
storm
rays of hope …
… in Green River, Utah.
collision …
… in the sky above I-80 in southern Wyoming. From my 2015 trip, re-edited.
the storm …
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?
towering …
… over Wilkins, Nevada, off Route 93.
unruly …
… along Route 359 in Montana, en route to Yellowstone National Park.
storm …
… east of Eureka, Nevada, on Route 50, “the loneliest road in America.”