Walls and bridges

Are you an unbridled capitalist? A builder? A Christian? 

Walls and bridges are all I know. 

Last fall, I drove west to Denver. Crossing Kansas, I daydreamed through the Flint Hills past Topeka. The Great Plains settled in with occasional creeks, fence rows and horizon. The land stretched its legs like an ocean.

I could look north or south 1,000 miles and see roughly the same thing. It was intoxicating. 

I couldn’t help but think of buffalo, native tribes and pioneer wagons as I hurdled down the highway taking in all the carefully measured and divided land. Just look at all that property!

We build walls, and we build bridges.

I reached Denver in no time flat. I was sleepy and thrilled. I crossed an ocean.