The things that make up who we are and how that triggers how we react to our environment.
Deep, right? But Bossy was thinking about the fact that even though she is a city girl raised on the 19th floor, Bossy’s mom instilled in Bossy a wanderlust and love of open expanses and appreciation of harsh landscapes and those who traverse them. Thanks Bossy’s mom!
This photo, which Bossy took yesterday in Wyoming, seems to capture all of that.
–>Why do I hear “Life is a Highway” in my head and am picturing a scene from Pixar’s Cars?
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We’ve stayed in Rawlins too many times — first stop after family visit in Boulder on way to family in Oregon — I refer to this part of the State as ‘Why-o-ming?”. As in “why do we have to be here anyway?”. Even so I love this post.
My family has a long history of road trips all over the west in the ’70s and ’80s. Sadly, those days are long gone, so I am doubly enjoying reading about yours.
And when I look at this picture, I think, “Is there any smell as wonderful as sage and sagebrush?”
Where can I get some here on the East Coast. Sent for a
sage candle once…completely bogus.
Dryed sage anyone?
I can hear the truck horn.
good for you and your gallivanting self Bossy
Woo hoo!!
My Mom instilled the same wander lust in me. When we couldn’t travel, we would rearrange the furniture.
I miss my Mom.
I will always remember a summer that included a long stay in Aspen and a drive to Grand Junction, Wyoming. There is something about that part of the country that you just don’t forget.
I always tell people to make sure you see the US before you go running off to Europe, Asia or parts unknown.
Truer than true. I OFTEN think of wide open plains and cowboys and dirt and fields upon fields upon fields and rolling hills and I think it is because my German ancestors ended up in Missouri but then again I think I just am drawn to OPEN, WIDE, PEACEFUL, QUIET and there is some gene I have that this prediliction was assigned to. Thanks Bossy for being deep!
Summer of 1972, cross country trip to Eau Claire, WI., 3 sisters in the back of a Buick LaSabre. See that ridge above the truck – where’s the line up of Indians, like in the old Westerns, we would ask. Then a night in Sheridan, WY, motel room w/linoleum, no pool and a town w/only one paved street. Can you say “teen Mutiny on the Bounty”