Gutted
gasoline
stations,
shuttered
motels
with
oscillating
VACANCY
signs
and
weedy
roadside
cafes
line
the
highways.
Even
the
blighted
open
space
of
a
derelict
drive-in,
with
its
rusted
superstructure
and
wind-shorn
movie
screen,
stands
abandoned
like
some
forlorn
recollection
of
the
US’
former
Automobile
Age.
The
days
when
oil
gushers
speckled
the
mesquite
peppered
landscape
with
hemorrhaging
drops
of
crude
are
long
gone.
Now
gleaming
wind
farms
line
the
ridges
overlooking
the
rich
sediment
lands
of
the
Permian
basin.
Their
slow-moving
turbines
blinking
in
the
sunlight
above
pump
jacks
and
cotton
farms
stand
out
in…