Through Colorado. Into the Rockies.

It`s a roller coaster. I fly around curves and squeeze by semi-trucks. There`s flakes of snow. There`s nets for the falling rocks. There`s signs for falling rocks. There`s signs for rock slides. I feel like the signs should have been placed at the start of ride along with a warning to keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle. I`m white-knuckling it. It starts to rain. There`s signs for Starbucks. Signs for animals on the road– not just crossing the road, on the road. Watch out for everything. Pay attention. Keep my eyes on the road. Don`t hit the center divide. Tunnel. Don`t look too hard at the scenery. There`s dark green, light green, trees woven thick like carpet. Red rock, brown rock, tan rock. Blue sky, gray sky, purple sky. Colors swirled together. I open the window. Train. The river is feet from the highway. And then it opens into land. Wide. Utah. I stick my hand out the window and am so content.