In Presidio, Texas the tallest structure in town is the Border Canopy, it stuck out immediately. No one was there at noon, nothing to report, the place seemed peaceful, one people, one purpose; now on to the famed Farm To Market 170, snaking the Rio Grande for 50 miles to Terlingua and on into Big Bend National Park. As a lifelong Texan who's never seen this part of the Lone Star State, this was the main dish, the whole enchilada, and the savory, sopped up sauce. Postcard after postcard, the sky was electric blue, the visibility went on and on, God's rockpile for sure. The river cut all through it, deep spots, shallow spots, no one was around.
Big shots, reverse shots, angled shots, looking for scale, looking for shade. Snap, snap, snap, like a snapping fool. It cannot be avoided the first time you drive the 170, the Pacific Highway of Texas. Good God, God is good. Pictures don't even do it justice, next time I'll just drive and look, already got the photos.
I recorded On The Fringe near the river at one spot. A border tune:
Said, what would you find.
If you broke into my mind.
No longer blind, what would you find, what would you find.
And, how would you like.
If I gave it a try.
If I stayed up all night, til we saw the light, saw the light.
And, where will this go.
No one really knows.
Take the path you chose, and let it roll, rock and roll.
Next time we meet again.
Maybe we'll be friends.
Maybe I make you cringe, on the fringe, i'm jumping in.
The rushing water was in the background, the wind whipped, the guitar was tuned up tight. There was no one around, I was on the fringe. It was nice.