Three days in a row I watched the sun rise in three different states.

In Montana I stayed up all night. I paddled a kayak towards the middle of the lake and sat there in the quiet.

It had been a fitful night in a poorly designed Amtrak chair. Somewhere in Oregon I looked out the window and smiled.

In Sacramento I woke up on the floor of the observation car. I took a seat and thought to myself as the third sun rose, "This means something. It means something good."