City of Commerce, along I-270. The great refinery chugging opaque billows across the tableau of the Rockies. Great parking lots and semi trailers parked with trucks, warehouses, great barns for construction of large vehicles. Many, many railroad tracks. The Stockyards. The ragged decayed pavement of the Interstate splitting into multiple lanes with multiple signs and arrows.
A cookie factory. A bread factory. The diviest of dive bars. Power lines, rising pavement. Frontage roads. Strange hotels. Billboards upon billboards.
In the old days, the Brown Cloud, the soil of the plains tossed into the air mixed with exhaust fumes and water vapor, the respiration of human beings.
Even from Boulder, ugly.
From the South, beautiful, the skyline seen on television and movies. From Parker. From Castle Rock. From the Springs. That way so nice.
But from the North, down along I-25, through the Little Boxes of Thornton and Northglenn, and the old farm communities built on the baselines of grids and county roads.
Denver. Ugly. And Civilization---beautiful civilization.
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