Sometimes (oftentimes) the best way to travel is slowly. Take the long way, stop and smell the desert rain, eat a sandwich on the side of the road while the sun goes down. This is how I like to travel. Avoiding interstates, absorbing the land and enjoying my own company.
31 May, 2015
Old Route 66 between highway 95 and Oatman, Arizona
Sunscorched, battered, tattered and left to disintegrate in the desert- it feels as though there are parallels to be drawn and meanings to be inferred from this memorial in the sun. Is this me languishing in the sunny part of the world? Is this America and the tattered remnants of a dream that no longer fits the world we live in? Or is it just a flag marking the place where a life was lost?
This tattered flag marks the spot where someone very real was lost forever.