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November 9, 2010
This place is cold now. The temperatures hover just above freezing, even during the day. The cold wind of the mountains has returned, shrieking and cackling and ripping at our jackets as it blows past.

Old Man Desert bows his head and sleeps warm and safe under the thick coat of dead fall grasses he's wrapped about himself.

"Texas." my thoughts say. "You're bound for Texas." And my heart rips a little.

I've come to love this place. This barren, thorn covered land. The sunrise here is like the gift of new life every morning.

Will Texas be the same?