I’m off.
With the other cheek turned, I’m off to lose myself in the mountains of Colorado, and to find myself again in the canyons of Utah. I’m off to bury my demons in the desert of Arizona, and unearth angels in the Sequoias of California. I’m off to shake the hands of the men who’ve stepped into my father’s boots in those endless back-breaking fields, and appreciate as I feast on the sweet red meat of the fruits of their labor. I want to be humbled by that place again. And then leave in curious awe of whatever place I’m off to next.
