(no subject)

I landed in Albuquerque precisely at sunset. The sun sank behind mountains, and airport buildings built of faux-adobe. The air was dusty and the mountains were brown.

The Rockies always catch me off guard. The gently sloping eastern mountains are so mature, perhaps they're even dying. The Rockies are new and young; so vibrant, the energy rushing and flowing along their ridges is tangible and just off the edge of visibility.

I made a bunch of left turns getting to my hotel. I cackled a couple of times while doing so. My sense of humor can be so warped.

There is a moth in my hotel room the size of a small bat.