We saw it coming for a half-mile or so.

Positioned low, a few inches above the vast saltbush and sage crusted landscape bordering the unfinished asphalt edge of Highway 50 – The Loneliest Road in America – we spotted a sign.

Passing it at 58 mph, the bold 12" letters clearly read, "Strange Days Indeed." I noted that the sign was so fresh I could almost smell the paint. Jim – the guy at the wheel with the encyclopedic Beatles Brain – sang a few bars of Nobody Told Me.

Seriously? You think that's referencing John Lennon's UFO?

"Look around," was his response.

Point taken. This is exactly the kind of place to experience a random sighting that gets you committed to lunacy for a lack of corroborating witnesses.

The post The Lonely Road appeared first on Living In Beauty.