Chapter Nineteen



We never put anything back. We don't know how to clean up after ourselves. We don't appreciate, cultivate, or nurture the delicate balance between Man and Earth. How long can this one-sided relationship go on? Our mortal finiteness seems so pitifully insignificant when compared to the endurance of Mother Earth, the sustanance for our very survival. We are not even a blip on the cosmic radar. Mother Earth will produce many more life forms before she grows old herself. She will continue to spin and spin until she too becomes cold and barren like her sisters and that is a long time away.
While the planet spins eastward, Pepper and I continue our journey as we travel westward across this chunk of space debris we call Earth. Desolation becomes more and more apparent as we get further into the hill country. The scenery of the urban sprawl that we had left behind only this morning where the buildings are stacked-high one upon the other in the blighted and densly populated All-American city was extremely different from the wide open spaces of West Texas. In the city you will find our species electronically wired and networked through conduits for transmitting and receiving more and more subliminal misinformation and propaganda. Big Brother funnels it into our habitations to manipulate like Pavlovian dogs our collective soul. Freedom...my ass. The fifth estate...my ass. Justice...if you have the money to prove that you are innocent.
Pepper and I stop at a comfort station. That's surviving on the go. We take a little walk off of the road to the foot of a nearby hill to stretch our legs. We walk to the top of the rocky hill and can see for miles and miles. There is nothing obstructing our view toward the endless horizon whose pink edge skirted the very limits of our perception in every direction. This is the picture that I had in my head as a child in Carolina watching the cowboy westerns on television on Saturday morning. This was the real thing. This is what brought Davey Crocket from Tennessee and this is what attracted Daniel Boone from North Carolina. An unobstructed view of the edge of the world with wide open spaces, big skys, the frontier, the American West. This is the stuff from which dreams are made but it is disappearing right before our eyes. Where has it gone? As I look out over the blue horizon, I can see a thin darker blue line where the sky touches the earth and higher up a much lighter blue as I lift my eyes toward heaven. And even higher still my gaze spreads upward toward a purely white puff of clouds, so high even an eagle could not reach it. And behind that is a deep transparent space of electric azure blue so ashamedly beautiful that is defies description. The clouds move ever so slowly so as not to distract from the peaceful stillness. The universe completely disregards my being there.
Pepper tugs at the cuff of my jeans and chirps reminding me that we are on a journey, so we leave it behind us and we move on west toward the sheep ranch. The Earth spins east...one more time.

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'Chapter 20'