| Description |
Driving past Burley, Idaho on my way to Boise for what must be the umpteenth time, I pass an aged and worn out motel sign, broken and unlit, perched far above the highway on three naked metal poles. The motel, once an oasis for the road-weary traveler, is gone. The sign stands proud but weary, in the middle of a field where a herd of Angus cattle graze quietly, immune to the sound of the free way. The cattle move only occasionally, perhaps in an effort to get the sliver of shade from the sign. |
