Father and son tackle Texas

A melodious little essay by a father mostly riding with his driving son across the west to Navy flight training at Pensacola, where my nephew also flew:

"Rested then, and once again on our way, a salt tang in the air, Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama giving us back some sense of forward movement after a day hurling ourselves repeatedly against Texas."

Ah, yes, that repeated hurling against the broad width of the Lone Star and its several sharp points. One does that daily, just living here, even in the rolling green hills around home.