All My Food

in no particular order. . .

Goats at the Gas Pump

Animals and their humans. . .yes, that's right. As my bus passed by, I wasn't fast enough on the draw, to photograph the pack of goats milling around the gas pumps at an empty gas station. No cars, just goats. In general it seems animals rule. On any road trip it's a given that half the mileage will be spent crisscrossing the road avoiding mildly herded packs of co-mingled donkeys, goats, cows, horses and the occasional camel. You may see a barely tail high boy traipsing along nearby, jumping out at the last second to appear to be in control of his animal nation. This is the ire of most drivers whose horns are honking more than they are silent. Brake repair is the business in which to invest. 

The roving animals, however, do not inspire the drivers to drive slower or more cautiously. Instead it becomes a live game of frogger. Not for the faint of heart, especially when it's a giant bus barreling down a curvy, misty mountain pass. This would explain the dozen or so horrifically smashed vehicles from accidents long since past. Most had become part of the landscape with plants growing out of the windshield and rusted bodies to match the red dirt. I wondered why no one came to claim or moved the vehicles. One passenger mini-van still sat dead center of the road, it's guts hanging out and personal items strewn across the road. Very sobering, thankfully even for the bus driver, who crossed his head and heart and slowed his roll. 

Road trip!