The American Great Plains can awaken the feeling of the sublime unlike any other place. With the horizon getting no closer regardless of your speed and your will to reach it, and above you a sky that seems heavy even when cloudless, the mind falters when relying on the usual parameters of spatial common sense. Objects seem to move when standing still, while moving objects seem still. All tricks of the sublime, I suppose. The spatial senses, the limits and the familiar, all turned on their ear. Stop moving, yet the earth and sky seem to keep moving, start moving again and the earth and sky stand still.