…one must pull-over to the side of the road and capture that particular image of what one knows is an ultra-transient, fleeting, and likely never to be duplicated, moment in time.
Somewhere between six and ten miles south of the Arizona/Nevada border…on US Highway 93, southbound….
It drizzled, sprinkled, and rained for all but the first 60 miles of yesterday’s journey northward…water falling in varying strength from a solid blanket of clouds that only appeared to be too high to be willing to loose any of its bounty. Today’s return trip revealed bright sunshine blasting through and around many-sized clouds that had broken free from the earlier blanket. There were some dark spots, too, that were still intent upon delivering more water to the mountains…low clouds unraveling their weave and being dragged, blown, carried, somehow east and away from of our route.