Jack Kerouac's Ghost

Today is Palm Sunday. It's also Day 18 for me being on the road. We started out in Los Angeles, California, drove through parts of Nevada and Arizona and ended up in Salt Lake City, Utah the next day. I feel like Jack Kerouac's ghost is leading the way. To make that sound less ominous, I'll call him a spirit. When you wake up in a new place every morning, in a different bed, well, sometimes you forget where you are. That's the excitement of the road though. At least I'm not sleeping in cow pastures. There's always something new to see. Colorado is a very inspiring place. When Katharine Lee Bates wrote a poem in 1893 that turned into an iconic American song, "America the Beautiful" and spoke of the "purple mountains' majesty" she was speaking of Pike's Peak.  When I'm not writing poetry, I'm taking pictures to capture the magic of our adventure. Here's a morsel of prose for you. "Flow away down the Colorado river with me as we pass homemade signs for B&E's Antiques and a bakery next to a drive-through liquor store. We'll zoom passed sparse fields brown patched with tough green stubble. One purple tree stands out among a set of cedars and cottonwoods. There's a brownstone steeple on a Presbyterian church, and a dilapidated muffler shop neighbors an apple orchard."