The boy loved maps. He liked to glide his finger along a map. He'd whisper the names along the paths he traced. Nacogdoches. Coushata. Natchez. Picayune. Alabaster. The words were magical incantations that could transform dreams into reality.
As a young man he bought a map, threw it in his car, and began highlighting all the roads he traveled.
He's no longer young, but he still possess an enthusiasm for maps and places.Now he's decided to document the places that aren't destinations for most. Today he's starting with Worden, Kansas.
imitation is suicide,
3 comments:
How 'bout them Jayhawks?
Word verification: unpint (to pour beer from the glass back into the keg?)
We always love taking the pink roads. However, the blue roads (interstates) are okay for the return home.
Michael-
Have you ever been to Fall Leaf? It is located north of Eudora. I don't know much about it's history, but it was evidently a stop the railroad. Check it out sometime.
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