Tuesday Morning, the sun shone down

Amarillo TX—I’m sleepin’ less than my travel partners. I don’t know why, just am. I suppose I’m just too excited to sleep. I haven’t been “out west” in so many years, and really so little as a whole. It’s kind of like boats: When I was a kid my family had a boat, but it fell out of favor (another story) early on and so I never got to be a “boat person.” Not so much. Nor have I gotten my preferred dose of the American southwest. And I do listen to a lot of Calexico, yes, in fact.

So back to the morning—sleeping, not sleeping and here we are in Amarillo, an hour and a half from New Mexico. I did my quietly-get-up-and-shower-and-find-breakfast thing, while the slumberin’ continued (7:30am) Here’s the magic then: I opened the door and—hear the heavenly angels sing?—the southwest texas morning sun rinsed me clean. Oh, the glory of the southwestern morning light. White, white light, accompanied by a cool calming steady breeze. What a way to greet the day.

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