When you travel,  you have the opportunity to download a number of Travel Apps onto your Androis or iPhone.   Then, as you take photos, you can record the photos and make remarks and the Travel App will also note for you the time and date and place, all wrapped up in neat little maps.

But I know, for me, as soon as I get home, all thos “present mmoments”  during the trip will now become “past moments”  and will reside in the phone’s memory – to be gone – gone like a memory, s though the wind has blown it away.   I will be satisfied that memories are safe –  but not ever taken out again and enjoyed.

That’s why I blog:  for my own memory, and secondarily to share with others.


W Top of the World

When you drive across Wyoming,  you feel like you’re on top of the world – or at least on top of our country, driving about as high in altitude as you can get.   You’re not, of course, you’re about 7,000 feet elevation in places,  but you do feel like you’re going over the crest of the Rockies.

Which comes with dangers.

There were warning signs every so often about the winds.  Current, electronic, lighted warning signs across the road that said “Warning!  High Winds.  Gusts 45 +.   Ahead 35 miles.”    Which I think means the next 35 miles will experience 45 m.p.h. gusts and higher.

W Sign

I stopped at a rest area on top of a hill and got the full force of the winds.  Could hardly stand up against them.  I walked around, just feeling the power and strength of these winds.    I had to be careful going in and out of my car, because the winds blew things around and could easily have flown things away like little kites.  Things would have been gone –  you know – “with the wind” – and no chance of recovery.

Apparently, according to this sign,  the strong winds in this area clear off the snow in the winter, revealing vegetation beneath so that grazing animals can survive.

W Sheltered table

The state had built a brick shelter, in case anyone wanted to stay outside long enough to have a little picnic.    A little manmade cave.

It was here, at the other side of this brick shletered area that I saw a remarkable and sorrowful sight.   A small family of about five were sitting together, looking so miserable.   An older mother was holding a small whining child.   Her face was so sad and weary and it was all red and blotchy as though she were ill, somehow.   Her expression was stoic.  She was staring but not focusing on anything.   Near her was another small child, quiet, but not happy.   There was a man sitting next to them with the most defeated look on his face.   And one more person, more restless, a little stronger, but I don’t remember his face.

Did they have car trouble?     Had they run out of money?     Are they sick and can’t get home?  Do they even havea  home?     How long had they been at that rest area?    Something big and tragic was affecting this family, but their expressions were closed.  Closed in on their misery.

Perhaps their lives hahd been better and things had changed and now their good life was – gone.


And this is more personal:

W selef portrait

This is a rare self-portrait.  I left the rest area and drove on to a gas station.  I thought the sign on this door was interesting, because people usually DO close the doors after them, but in this case,   in windy Wyoming, it’s not so easy, you must make an extra effort to close doors.

I was pretty happy and carefree on this day.   But within 36 hours I would be feeling a little different.  Through my own carelessness, I’ve been separated from a lot of personal information.   I left it at a house of family I was visiting –  and now the informatino is in the hands of an international delivery agency.   I’m not going to be comfortable until the papers are in my own hands.

All my info – gone with… the winds of my own carelessness, I guess.   Life is so precarious.   Gone so easily.



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