Nebraska – though it smells like cow dung.

And then the sun set cold into the purple, hazy ground, and I loved Nebraska. 

 

In spite of the its treeless, lifeless plains, and the cow stench that soaks your clothes and sinks deep into your bones, and the miles upon miles of crops and nothing else. And in spite of, or perhaps because of, it’s endless space and endless, cloudless sky, I loved it. Because that sky met that land in a grey and purple shadow  and the sun traveled faithfully to meet it.