The night was calm and the radio had fallen silent after hours of driving. The hum of the engine and the sound of the desert wind passing by the window had replaced any drawn out conversation that had attempted to occupy tired minds as we crossed the New Mexico border. I pointed my lens out the passenger window, and photographed the now blueing sky as it colored the roadside foliage. I thought, only for a second, that it wasn’t so bad to be alone. If only I had known of the wave that was building for me back home, I’d probably have stayed in Santa Fe.
