If I'm lucky when I die, I might find that heaven is an empty stretch of highway in some lost corner of New Mexico, and I'm always driving up that road in a car full of friends, all of us quiet, a couple of them always drowsing in the back seat, and Emmylou Harris or Gillian Welch or Martha Scanlan is always on the stereo, and the clouds keep shifting and the mesas rise and fall alongside us, but we never quite get where we're going.
10 Best of 2014
January: Wyoming and the Open
February: New Mexico and the Holes
Notes on The Accounts