ROAD UNDER THE WESTERN SUN

Dreams do come true, but they have their own path. Perhaps influenced by popular culture, I’ve dreamed for as long as I can remember of a road trip like this: the romance of endless miles of open road disappearing into the horizon.

I’m Ukrainian. Right now, my country is at war, and that has forced many of my fellow citizens to leave in search of peace and safety. That’s how, by the circumstances of war and fate, I ended up in the United States.

Forced emigration isn’t a vacation or an extended holiday. It’s a daily challenge to carve out a new place in the world, to cope with loneliness and homesickness, and to resist the urge to go back. My family and I spent a year in Washington State. Then we had a chance to return to Europe, closer to home. With that chance came an opportunity to fulfill an old dream: a road trip across the United States.

Let me say right away, no other place, no other journey, has given me this kind of joy, excitement, and wonder. We chose a route from north to south, through the western states—first along Route 84 from Seattle to Salt Lake City, and then on to Los Angeles. Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Arizona, Nevada… even the names made my heart skip a beat. But nothing I could have imagined compared to the endless landscapes of America, with its vast plains, towering mountain ranges on the horizon, and scattered towns surrounded by empty wilderness.

And, of course, it’s the people, with their warmth and resilience, that make this land so special. You can see in their faces the stories the hills and fields keep silent: hard work, resilience, a unity between people and nature, traditions, and a deep respect and love for the place they call home.

On the road, I felt a true sense of freedom and openness, an embrace of the new alongside conservative traditions and values. America unfolded before me as a colorful, heartfelt land, with a touch of nostalgia—like a country song. These memories will stay with me forever.

I felt like Alice in Wonderland, or maybe Dorothy from Kansas—a girl who found herself inside a dream by a twist of fate. Alice had her rabbit hole, Dorothy had her yellow brick road, and my road was the Road under the Western Sun.

P.S. I’m grateful to my husband for making this journey possible.