flâneur

Tuning In - by Matt - Collecting Leaves

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I remember a road trip during the summer after I graduated from college. The view through the windshield was a sea of wild grass, currents rolling in the wind, only interrupted by the road which guided me and my friend Dan across Wyoming. We sat in his Honda CR-V and headed west. The only signs of life outside of the car were the occasional black-billed magpie flying away from the road and the mounds of prairie dogs dotting the grass at various intervals. I had never felt this level of remoteness. You could look to the horizon and see uninterrupted emptiness in every direction. We continued driving, seemingly stationary at the center of an endless world of grass.

I remember a road trip during the summer after I graduated from college. The view through the windshield was a sea of wild grass, currents rolling in the wind, only interrupted by the road which guided me and my friend Dan across Wyoming. We sat in his Honda CR-V and headed west. The only signs of life outside of the car were the occasional black-billed magpie flying away from the road and the mounds of prairie dogs dotting the grass at various intervals. I had never felt this level of remoteness. You could look to the horizon and see uninterrupted emptiness in every direction. We continued…

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