solitude of nothing…

there was a black and white book cover of men riding bicycles ‘cross the desert…just a wide open space with dust kicking up…outlines of mountains in the background…couldn’t make out if they were snow capped or not…

and the riders were wearing cowboy hats…not helmets…or any funny little caps…cowboy hats…like they were riding horses ‘cross the vast wastelands…goin’ somewhere…off on some kinda journey…

I wondered where they were headin’ to…what town they were riding towards…how many miles they had to go…it looked so bleak yet so beautiful…maybe it was the black and white…

the desert is a lonely place…men go out there as a last hope…or… to end it…I remember as a kid riding through the desert on a bus heading West to California…remember seein’ hills of red clay stretch ‘cross New Mexico into Arizona…and cactus standin’ by themselves…and I wanted so badly to stop and take it all in…breathe the air…take my shoes off and feel the earth…

when I look at this book I think of that…that trip out to California on the bus…the loneliness of the desert…solitude of nothing…just nothing…

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