This must be the place: ‘I don’t know, don’t really care, let there be songs to fill the air’
It’s 11 a.m. Monday. Currently sitting in the rec room of my aunt’s high-end apartment complex on the outskirts of Charlotte.
This must be the place: ‘A horse is a horse, of course, of course’
The alarm on my smart phone echoed throughout the small cabin. It was 7:30 a.m. Saturday and I had to be somewhere in an hour — hopping onto a saddle for an early morning horse ride.
This must be the place: Ode to STS9, ode to intent and intuition
Emerging from the rental car, a slight drizzle from an early evening storm rolled across the high-desert landscape of Morrison, Colorado. The Western skies overhead turned dark and ominous, only to quickly retreat and head for the skyline of nearby Denver.
This must be the place: Sweating out my worries, just another day
Covered in sweat, I was about three miles into a Friday afternoon run around Lake Johnson on the outskirts of Raleigh.
This must be the place: ‘Scarecrow and a yellow moon and pretty soon a carnival on the edge of town’
Mailbox 278 (pictured) along Route 581 in the unincorporated community of Nahunta, North Carolina. In the rural depths of Wayne County on the outskirts of the small city of Goldsboro.
This must be the place: ‘Make another dime just to lose it in time, what's the meaning’
Exiting the elevator of the Cambria Hotel in downtown Asheville on Monday morning, I noticed the “Sunset Time” scribbled on the lobby sign said 8:29 p.m. Four minutes shorter than what I first saw when checking into the Cambria last Thursday evening.
