Looking at posts and photos from a year ago, I was reminded of our wonderfully magical drive home form last summer’s road trip.
Road tripping is always a bittersweet thing; you start with so much hope and excitement for what is ahead of you and as the days progresses, that excitement never dwindles, but instead, your heart begins to long for home.
By this point, even though I would've loved nothing more than to take a month and drive around, I think my body knew it was ready for home; for a familiar bed and familiar faces. As we left Conner Prairie, all that was between us and our driveway was a stretch of highway longer than we could see. Passing through central Indiana, we were blessed with the most beautiful and surreal sunset. If you look, you can see individual "fingers" stretch out as the sun bid us adieu.
Dotting the horizon and twisting in perfect synchronicity was the largest bank of wind turbines I've ever seen. When we used to live in Idaho, there were several dozens out on the hills and at night, the red lights would blink in unison. (It was actually very beautiful to see.) Here though, it was definitely more than a few dozens. Rows upon rows of windmills turned to the same beat with the passing breeze.
Nothing beats going home.