I could not have chosen a more beautiful day to drive through the West Virginia countryside with the windows down.
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Mists creep through the treeline, promising secrets, delivering nothing. An industrial facility looms behind an empty cemetery. A broken tile floor sits in the middle of a field, as if the rest of its structure was never built, or had simply vanished. A lonely, unmarked grave reminds us that the ground we walk is our final destination.
Arkansas. The fields and the silence and the naked trees stretch on...