Sun Worshipper (ACC #9)

Sometime, in the late summer, of a long past decade, I spent an entire day in the "wayback" of our station wagon with my face pressed against the glass as we traversed the state of Kansas on our family pilgrimage to Missouri. I had spent virtually all of my life in the desert, so the lush greens and yellows of the endless fields of sunflowers captured my imagination in a way that the mountains of Colorado, and the wild expanse of Arizona and New Mexico had failed to. Like acolytes of a bygone religion, their golden faces turned towards the heavens, I felt their yearning for the warmth and light of acknowledgment.