The Brady Westbound Rest Area

The Trucker and his Passenger arrived at midnight, EST.  The Brady Westbound Rest Area on Route 80 in Nebraska was full.  The Trucker thought a bit, then created his own parking space at the end, knowing that all trucks entering, and all trucks exiting would still have clear access.

As the lot was long and narrow, and the restrooms were at the far end instead of the middle, a five minute walk awaited.  It was a lovely clear, starlit night.  Trees whispered quietly to themselves overhead, streetlights cast their glow over the extensive grassy lawn under them.  Scattered through out were plaques describing the area's history and local attractions, connected by lovely curved walking trails.  

The Trucker needed a rest before the return walk...his back is still protesting that stint with a weed whacker while at home.  His Passenger wandered, reading about local Indian wars, Buffalo Bill's life, and the Pony express, of which a preserved station was not far away.

Back in the truck, the logbook needed an update.  Then another truck pulled in beside us, in the space left open for others to pass through, and which the Trucker needed to swing out when leaving in the morning.  After a short internal debate, the Trucker walked round and asked if that trucker would mind backing up about five feet to ensure him a safe departure in the morning.  That trucker was gracious and more than accommodating.  Lights out.

With apologies for the red dot.  Still learning...not to take

 photos directly into the sun....

Morning crept over the prairies.  The humans and their vehicles were silent and still, except for refrigeration units keeping their loads chilled or frozen.  The birds, however, were deep into communication and construction projects before the sun rose.  Cheeky robins hopped along the path and through the grass, collecting their next building supplies.

One slender robin paused near the sidewalk, eyeing a discarded Kleenex fluttering in the breeze.  A spry hop landed him within range, and after a few adjustments of technique, he gathered enough Kleenex into his beak to allow for a successful takeoff.  Can you imagine Mrs. Robin's response when that flapped into her nest construction project?  Will it be woven into the structure or reserved to soften the interior for its tiny occupants?

So absorbed was this Passenger that the camera was not thought of.  But down the row, the Trucker and his load awaits.  Breakfast on the roll this morning, past fields of green erupting and cattle grazing, scrubby trees, and praise to our Maker on the radio and in our hearts.