Last night on Lincoln's highway

Another tranquil night of walking along highway 30 brings us safely into Gettysburg. Thunderclouds in the distance had provided an electrifying performance for most of the way. Luckily, this marvelous spectacle remained moving steadily before us so that we could watch but weren't obliged to participate.

Once in town, my first priority is to find a restroom. Someone points us in the direction of a convenience store, which gets me remembering Thailand, and random late night 7-eleven pit stops. There's not much to do at 2 am, so we go back to the west side of town and park it behind a statue of what I suppose to be General Buford on a horse. The memorial's large enough to block most of the lights from passing vehicles, but it's still kinda hard to sleep. I'm too preoccupied with imagined murmurings and brief glimpses of apparitions in the mist.

The features of the imposing figure towering above are subtly highlighted by starlight, and it's enough for me to simply lay there looking up at the shimmering hosts of heaven, wondering what the men of each respective army must have been thinking as they lay near this very field the night before the battle commenced. Then, the sun begins rising. A glorious array of colors pours over the valley, washing away all thoughts of grief and death.