American Vertigo

Already three days on the road. From the snow capped Sierras of Central California to the harsh canyons of Southern Colorado, we’ve only crossed four states but a multitude of landscapes took my breath away.
The California Joshua trees, feet in the sand, crane their spiked branches to the endless sky. Miles of highway stretch ahead until my eyes get blurry, trying to imagine what lies behind the blue horizon line.
Las Vegas, built on sand, born of a dream, brings the promise of life to the desert. Slots machines, gambling rooms, cocktails lounges, strip bars and all-you-can eat buffets.
After Las Vegas, larger than life, the hot land patched with cactuses that stretches to Arizona. Red land, smoke shops, fireworks, casinos, liquor stores, and Loves gas stations.
Southern Utah is an old fashioned America. Main Street in Rockville is lined with American flags, swept porches and mowed lawns. Springdale, the gateway to Zion National Park, is nestled at the foot of the red canyon. The park mid June is reasonably busy. Temperatures reach the 90s but the desert wind brings a relief as early as 5:00 pm. Night drops like a curtain on a stage after a successful show. People swim past dark in the hotel pool. Their laughter and conversations reach me but I am, like after a five-course-meal, full of sun, air, and majestic views.
It is my fourth cross country trip across teh USA and I know that people still speak English and that the same American flag billows under the sky. Yet, I am light headed when I realize that almost each state is larger than my native France and that I have barely attacked the West.

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