Airports feel like nowhere and everywhere, and spending 36+ hours confined to planes and airports felt like maneuvering through a purgatory: some world in between one real place and another.

We were nearly zombies, trying to fight our way through some kind of intentional schedule of staying awake at the airport and falling asleep on a plane.  Find a gate. Find a seat. wait. Repeat repeat repeat.

At last we exited the airport in Houston Texas and hopped into Drew’s dad’s truck.  As we drove along the highway I watched for signs that this place was new.  Signs that America isn’t what it was when I left… or signs that it was everything it had ever been but now under new light.

I know my eyes have changed.  Travel will not leave a person be, even when they stop moving.

As we drove the katie-dids were singing with their loud buzz in the trees, like the music of summer and a huge Texas full moon shone over them.  I smelled the cow pastures and and the fields and the smell of country-side.

So I resigned to the simple comfort of it, and turned all thought of observation off.  Everything is old and new, and I can think about all of this later.


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