Trees and Post Offices

OK, so just to prove that I really *did* have something to say this whole time, I’m posting this, which I wrote between Colorado and New Mexico. Enjoy!


It was as if vertical didn’t exist. The whole landscape consisted of horizontal levels of different elements: a straight, flat road, flat sagebrush land, and in the distance, a layer of blue or brown depending on the direction. These were mountains, but you couldn’t tell they were mountains because the clouds hung so low.

It was as if we were in an orb; the clouds seemed high enough above us, but on the horizon they sunk lower and lower, and land might not have even existed beyond them.

We had left the land of color, and it was becoming obvious that we might not see much color for a while, especially if the clouds didn’t lift

I’ve never seen the clouds so low. If I stood on top of the car, I might even be able to touch them. Full and dark and reducing to wisps the lower they got, but remaining ominous. Yellow daisies lined the road, and the sky seemed to be blue beyond the clouds, but it was quickly dimming as the sun went down.

A few children were crouching at the horizon, holding paper cutouts of clouds at different heights in the sky. As we moved, they became two dimensional and looked like individual pieces of gray instead of an indistinguishable colorless blue.

Every once in a while, things would become a little more green or blue or yellow, but most of the time they were steadily getting less colored. Mom would point and say, “treeee!” and I would point at a truck with straw flying off of it and say, “hay!” because that’s what she used to do with me. And whenever we saw a sign, mom would read it. Just in case I hadn’t seen it, even though writing would be hard to miss in this area.

The time of day would be best described as twilight, which is a little sad to admit. The moon was a little sliver to our left, against a background of, if you have your crayon set handy, a very light sky blue crossed with cerulean.

“Post office,” mom said as we passed that sign and rolled into a sad little town that was mostly boarded up and had one flashing yellow light, just like in Radiator Springs, from Cars.

Trees and Post Offices

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