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“The USA slowly lost it’s mandate
in the middle and later twentieth century
it never gave the mountains and rivers,
trees and animals,
a vote.
all the people turned away from it
myths die; even continents are impermanent…”
Gary Snyder from his poem Tomorrow’s Song
“How can the head-heavy power-hungry politic scientist
Government two-world Capitalist-Imperialist
Third-World Communist paper-shuffling male
non-farmer jet-set bureaucrats
Speak for the green of the leaf?
Speak for the soil?”
Gary Snyder from poem Mother Earth: Her Whales
I noticed that semi-truck drivers now use the Wal-Mart parking lots as rest stops, parking their trucks in the netherworlds of the lot to sleep. I also noticed an odd phenomenon. There seem to be an extremely high number of dead/roadkill animals within close proximity to the entrances and exits of Wal-Mart. Not just your usual deer, raccoon and possum, although I witnessed many of these; but an unusually high number of dogs and cats, (feral or dumped) some chickens and a coyote.
“Wild Geese hatched out in Siberia
head South over basins of the Chiang, The Ho,
what we call China
On flyways they have used a million years.
Ah China, where are the tigers, the wild boars, the monkeys,
like snows of yesteryear
Gone in a mist, a flash, and the dry hard ground
Is parking space for fifty thousand trucks.”
Gary Snyder from Mother Earth: Her Whales
Technorati tags: Gary Snyder, Wal-Mart, animals, roadkill, truck drivers, American myth, roadside attractions, travel, displacement of wildlife, feral cats, dogs, shopping, clearcutting, forests, fast food nation
I wanted to drive forever and ever. Suspended in time. A never ending journey. Never aging, never dying, never losing loved ones, never alighting anywhere. Just following behind Mitch, my son, and staring at breathtaking, heart rending clouds through my window. ![]()
I continued to steer and snap pictures through my open passenger side window and front windshield.
My thoughts became a sort of prayer: May Mitch arrive safely and live a good life in North Carolina. May my parents live well into their 90’s. May the war end. May the animals be protected.
Technorati tags: clouds, earth, travel, photography, death, interstate 40, America, Western US, life, time, immortality, forever young, on-the-road, suspended animation, love, sorrow, loss, beauty
As mentioned in an earlier post, numerous Indian Reservations align Interstate 40. The Havasupai, the Acoma, the Hopi, the Navajo to name a few. We passed many roadside souvenir shops with buildings straight out of the 1950’s and 1960’s rt. 66 era. some of these shops were shaped like teepees, some like arrows, and many roadside signs were teepee shaped or had arrows sticking through them. the ultimate in
cheesy american campiness. I loved it and wanted to stop at each and every shop. not wanting to waste any time, mitch refused to stop at any. finally, he softened, and said we could stop at one. The place was filled with wonderfully tacky trinkets. Stuff like wolves painted on black velvet backgrounds in fluorescent pinks and greens. And most freaky of all was this lifelike indian fortune teller, who so much gave me the creeps. there was something very sinister about him.![]()
Mitch and I each bought little wooden anteater bobble heads made in mexico. His was blue and mine was red. They were $2.00 each and the only souvenirs we bought during the entire trip. i did not have my fortune read.

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