Two weeks ago, I boarded a train in downtown Chicago and rode across the beautiful land called America.
No one can say it better than these lyrics:
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
On the Southwest Chief, Chicago to Flagstaff.
The hubbs looking out the window.
Passing a freight train.
Entering the wild west.
Signs of civilization.