Smoked Blackberry Bourbon
M
y eyes follow along the windy road as far as they can see; they locate where the pavement holds the sky. The breeze softly blows through my hair as if it is sweeping another decade behind me each mile traveled. Decades soon become centuries and my mind can’t help but wonder about those who traveled this land before me, those who knew the land like the back of their hands and connected to it with the soles of their feet. I think back to a time when its inhabitants relied on stars and these beautiful red-tinted landmarks to my left to guide them to their destinations, instead of these road signs to my right. But today, it’s only the mountains in the distance and I, just before the sun begins winding down for rest.
@ S B L I F E A N D S T Y L E | 19
