There ain’t no point in moving on
Until you got somewhere to go
And the roads that I have walked along
Well, they’ve filled my pockets
But emptied out my soul
~George Michael, Waiting (Reprise)
As the cold north wind blows relentlessly across the scarred lands of the panhandle of Oklahoma, in the profound silence, I come to better understand the lamentations of naturalist John Muir. “The battle for conservation will go on endlessly. It is part of the universal warfare between right and wrong. Fortunately, wrong cannot last…there must be places for human beings to satisfy their souls.”
Looking out across a land that was ravaged in the early 1930’s by the greedy, it’s apparent that John Muir’s prophecy is still waiting to be fulfilled in this godforsaken place–there is nothing here to satisfy the parched and wanting soul.
Nothing.
Gazing upon this old windmill, a most ironic survivor, I can only believe that the ambitious men who raped this land died with full pockets and empty souls. And all I can think as I turn up my collar is that the world is better off without them.
A lone windmill still stands amidst the dust and ruins of the Oklahoma panhandle.
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