No country for old men

Note: I apologize for all the Texas posting, folks. I'm not obsessed. It's just so much easier to capture my memories and thoughts of the state while I'm knee-deep in the culture. I'm here 'til the 18th, so bear with me.

The West Texas landscape is unforgiving. Mile after mile of mesquite and cactus. Dry creek beds where, in more hospitable climates, you would see water flowing.

Back when I called Texas home, the drive was something to be endured. Highways became familiar and monotonous after traveling to Friday away games in the back of a yellow bus, weekend getaways and Sunday drives. However, time and distance provide a refreshed perspective. Stark transforms into beautiful. Flat suddenly feel expansive, providing breathing room for days.