Musing about our land

I drove across our country in October. From Blairsville, Georgia to my home in Tucson, Arizona. From the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Rockies, across wet land and dry land. Across our wide open spaces.

There’s land left, folks. There are towns crying out for entrepreneurs, people to grow vegetables, corral sheep, help raise the wind towers, install the solar panels, rejuvenate those fading structures.

We have space for new immigrants. Our land cries out for them. The Tallak’s of today, the Ellen’s, their parents and their children, their descendants. Suffering where space has run out. Let’s reconsider. Open those borders again. Our land is generous. Let the people be generous too.
Which made me think . . .


How about requiring every individual running for national office to drive across this country . . . perhaps twice. Different routes. In a car. Stop in a motel at night, eat local, see and sense and feel our large piece of the world.

Secondary roads, although even interstates let us see those wide-open spaces. East to West. West to East. North to South. Vice versa. Small towns required on the route.

That’s all. Just a road trip. . .

There is room here.

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