When I started this thing I came with a smattering of HTML knowledge (thanx work) and a heaping of creativity. I grabbed the only image at the time that would sort of work with my theme, which I borrowed from Carrie Bradshaw. I still want her fictional magazine/bookcase. But now, I am pleased to report that I've added an original photograph taken on our recent travels. We had stopped in a dusty little spot where the only restaurant around was packed to the gills with mouths eager for chicken-fried steak. I popped in to find the bathroom. Dark-wood paneling greeted me along with about 47 pairs of inquiring eyeballs. After I used the facilities, I had decided, due to self-preservation, to find an alternate exit. This place was your standard: restaurant, Saturday-night honky tonk, general gathering place — so I knew there had to be lots of doors to the outside. I was right. After a short maze through the musty aroma of old whiskey and Old Spice, I found my escape hatch. The door opened and I was in the back of the place. A make-shift smoking lounge was to my left and a blackened industrial-sized barbecue to my right. As I scanned my new surroundings, I spotted something that literally caught me in its tractor beam. Rocks crackled under my feet as I made my way to the bus. I spotted my husband, who was parked on the side of the building and pointed.
"I have to get my camera." I said.
It was parked in a grass clearing as if to say, "You're not good enough, stay over here." Did someone live inside? Had its engine began to corrode? How did this come to be its home? Its tires were decent, had a pack of hippies parked it here while they trekked into the hills?
We were on our way home from the coast and had seen picturesque landscapes, but I couldn't help but think as I gazed on this lonely behemoth in the grass that this was one one the most beautiful snapshots I'd seen in awhile. The wind whipped as I continued to stare.