Home » Uncategorized » Red Dirt Roads and American Dreaming

Red Dirt Roads and American Dreaming

WritelyOrWrongly

DSCN1896I close my eyes. There is a stillness I am not used to. The heat from the sun washes over and around me, and it is so intense that I can almost taste it. I am far from anywhere, with a noiselessness that enrobes me. Then, I notice that there is more to listen to than I first thought; the rhythmic creak of a cricket, the lazy buzz of a curious fly, the crackle of dried grass barely moving in a feather-light wind, the sporadic hum of an occasional passing car, far from where I stand.

I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. The ground underfoot is red dust, peppered with tiny rocks and faded tyre-tracks from long-passed vehicles. I am on the edge of a vista of dried earth, painted by an unseen hand into hues of brown, orange, red, yellow, grey and green; fading into one another in…

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