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A Greyhound Bus leaves the Chicago Terminal several times a day and routinely rolls across the Mississippi River, the Great Plains, and the Rocky Mountains to its destination in the Golden State.

Just as frequently, a bus leaves Los Angeles and in silent recognition the drivers pass and wave. Partners conveying anonymous individuals.

In Iowa we see these buses and occasionally ride them laden with food and gifts, but mostly we dream a little about the places they are going and then return to more immediate business.

After business comes a drink and the sleep that is so sweet in Iowa, while buses move on to the blackness of Chicago and the setting sun of the Golden State.

~ Summer 1974