Welcome to Colorful Colorado,the sign reads, beckoning me to pull to the side and capture the moment.
There is a long stretch of highway before me, cruising along at 65 mph, yet it feels like I could walk faster. The road is narrow, only two lanes, straight as an arrow with only the repetition of the middle yellow lines that lull me into what feels like oblivion.
An old barn is to my left, the kind that are hundred shades of weathered lumber with the long red traces of rusty nails holding it all together. It leans to one side as if the brisk prairie winds are forcing the structure's assimilation to everything else around it that bends to one side.
Wild ponies peacefully graze, head down, tails whipping to the side and huddled in a pack. One baby pony catches my attention looking straight at me, his mother nods him back to focus on the task at hand. Every horse I've ever been around were always so perfectly maintained and groomed,
I'm amazed they run wild and free like this in a world of way too many fences. Seems I've stumbled upon yet another ironic analogy of my own life.
Looking forward, I see the overlapping peaks of mountains, yet they never seem to get closer even though I'm hurling towards them in this car.
It being October, they're not snow capped yet, but sleeping up in these rocky behemoths is just as cold once the daytime clouds fade away revealing a sky so black the depth never ends. The night gets still, erie still with nothing but your thoughts and the sounds of your own heart beat to remind you there is life.
Rolling to a stop, the road ends and I must choose right or left. Right to Denver or left to Durango. Those two "D's" are some beautiful places, how could I go wrong?
Just before my steering wheel pulls right, my stomach grumbles..."A Diner!", I shout to myself.
Think I'll pull over a bit, experience wherever the hell I am, meet some people, listen to some stories of life and perhaps even tell a few of my own.
Oh what a path it is.
Journal Entry 10/15/15 - Colorado border from New Mexico