Nowhere is a place too.

Nowhere is often a remote, uninteresting, nondescript place, a place having no prospect of progress or success, obscure, miles from anything or anyone.

Nowhere is often a place no one else wants to be, a place that offers no comfort, no wealth, no value.

Nowhere, however, can also be a place to gain privacy, a place to begin new, a place to build what you now see that you didn’t see before.

Pioneers struck out to find value in the nowhere reaches of the old west. Astronauts went into the nowhere of space looking for new worlds. Explorers in the sixteenth century ventured into nowhere to find profit. 

Chip, wife Lori, son Bowen, and Scott are striking out today for our Nowhere, Arizona.

There won’t be a town here, but, by the time we are done, this trip, there will be the start of a storage shed for Chip and Lori’s stuff. Their homestead is still further down time’s road.

When you come to Nowhere, you don’t want to come with Nothing and you want to leave Something behind.

This is how it must have felt to the pioneers on wagon trains headed west after the American Civil War, a shared tragedy, like slavery, that some Americans still haven’t worked their way through.

The odd thing about nowhere is that someone was often there before you arrived.

 

 

 

 

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