We're both tired, me and the dog.

Spent a lot of time on the road.
Sleeping in cars.
Staring at skies.
Wandering.

We're home, now.
Home for a while.
Camp gear still piled on the bed, though.

Car needs cleaning.

Maybe we're lazy.
Or maybe we just don't want it to be over yet.
Maybe we're still hanging on.
Hanging on to sand from the Olympic Peninsula, the Oregon Desert, Colorado, Utah, San Juan Island, Wyoming.
Is there sand in Wyoming?

Pebbles and dust and and detritus from a quarter of the country, collected within the span of a few short weeks.

Leave it to me to get sentimental about dirt.


Leave it to me to fill cubbies with rocks and bones and trinkets and change from all the places we've been.


And how many times did I pull this lever to get us to next adventure?

Am I really done? Are we really done, Pilot? Or should we just keep--

ok, that's nasty.

I guess it's time.

Time to switch long hours on the road for long hours at work.
Time to go back to the gym instead of jogging around rest stops and scrambling up cactus-infested hillsides.
Time to play grownup.
I've got them pretty convinced.

It's ok, buddy. The days will get longer again. The rain will stop. You'll see.

It's just a few months.
We can wait.

This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try.

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