Somewhere Between Here and There

There are roads built for arriving, and roads that make arrival feel almost beside the point. High in the mountains, the world opens up differently — fewer buildings, fewer signs, fewer reminders of everything waiting somewhere else.

The pavement keeps going because it can. Around one curve, then another, through patches of lingering snow and beneath peaks that seem to have no particular concern for schedules or destinations.

For a little while, there is only the road ahead and an enormous amount of world around it.