When I was a little girl, my family took a lot of road trips all around the United States. We’d leave very early in the morning so my brother and I would sleep for a few hours, and then we’d drive on across the highways of America.
On most of those drives, I read book after book, using the uninterrupted time to devour stories one after the other. But sometimes, I would stare out the window at the landscape passing by. For my young mind, the world felt vast out there, and in that vastness, I felt small, a bit lost. So I would latch on to what I could see that traveled with us: the power lines that ran beside the road.
I followed those lines as far as I could as they dipped into gullies and curved around boulders. Sometimes, they would branch off, and I’d let my eyes travel their black trajectories to farm houses against mountains or to small towns whose smoke stacks I could just see in the distance. [Read more…]