Window Tripping

I’ve been vacationing in Texas this week and haven’t had an opportunity to do any writing. On a portion of our drive across the state of my birth I began snapping pictures of random sights. 

Carnival rides move from town to town during the summer months. At least I hope that’s what these are.

 Cows. No trees.
A working pump jack.

Note the trees–a rarity here.

This building was painted like a Holstein cow.    
Quanah, Texas, was named for the great chief Quanah Parker to whom we might or might not be related through Studly Doright’s mother Saint Helen.

Studly’s arm with the American and Texas flags in the background.
Railroad ties.

A pair of Harleys. 

Abandoned homes like this dot the panhandle of Texas.  

I liked the name of this business: Faux Pants. I believe this was in Memphis, TX.  

A truck was hauling these unknown objects.     
Small town water tower.


The colorful tarp below is most likely a deflated bouncy house.
My feet. 
This motel was out in the middle of nowhere.

A grain elevator.  

Prairie with wind turbines in the distance.

A close up of a turbine.

  And its antique counterpart:

The loop to bypass Amarillo–a sure sign we’ve neared our destination.


Note the dried mud on the tailgate of the pickup truck. Clean cars are as rare as trees out here.

Harva’s Place

Prairie sky resplendent in ozone scented spring

Promises made by rainbow’s arch spatter way out yonder

Concerned eyes watch storm’s progression stringing out hope for moisture

In a land that’s always thirsty, cumulonimbus delivers mixed blessings.

Distant rumbles echo over endless grassy acres, singing the clouds home.

My friend Ann (a.k.a. Harva) shot this picture on her land Monday afternoon. There is nothing like a prairie storm.