If I had to use one word to describe driving back to Colorado from Oregon I would use flat. Though many of the landscapes which enamored us were hilly and rocky the ones that stuck with me the most were the flat ones. What is there to fill this space but air, wind, clouds, space. Things that only exist as theories. Things I can see or feel but not touch. Then there is the space inside our car. A touch from my hand to yours. We are moving but not moving. We have just jumped off of one rock, our toes pointed, and are about to land on another. This is what is in between.