West Texas. The 428 miles down 1-20 from Dallas to Pecos was filled with grey skies, huge windmills, endless flatlands, metal scrap yards, dead grass, red clay and hundreds of thirsty birds (or oil drills for all you non-texans). The unchanging landscape was a bit tiring after a while, but thankfully the speed limit is higher than the rest of the country, to allow for an expedited escape I suppose. The windmill farms were a site to behold. These goliath energy producing machines make for an amazing view as they tower over the surrounding brushland, spinning their 85 ft. blades in perfect unison. It seems harmonious spinning is the common denominator in this region, as the constant whirling of the oil drills is mesmerizing. The landscape is lacking in color and variety. The little bit of rock outcroppings worth seeing are marred by the stench of oil refineries and the countless metal graveyards filled with ancient oil equipment as well as cars, trucks and tractors from years gone by.
2 comments:
Who's writing this stuff? And how did you extract poetry out of West Texas? I hope you were not "escaping" from us. We will welcome you back to Dallas (or Philly if we are back there) any time. Best to you two, Sylvia
so you guys really liked West Texas, huh? You are making me want to jump in my car and move on down there! :) haha. -lyds
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