12/31/2024
Returning to Amarillo for the holidays is always a trip down memory lane. I had spent the first 23 years of my life here, yet somehow as an Amarillo resident, I’d never made the pilgrimage to Cadillac Ranch, the iconic Route 66 art installation just west of town. It wasn’t until I became a photographer that I truly began to appreciate the cultural treasures of the places I once called home.
As the sun began its slow descent, I felt the pull of the open plains. In the Texas Panhandle, sunsets aren’t just an event—they’re a spectacle. If there’s a place on Earth with more stunning sunsets, I haven’t found it. The fiery glow of the horizon always seems to stretch endlessly, painting the expansive sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.
I grabbed my camera and drove west on I-40, arriving at Cadillac Ranch just as the sky began to transform. The line of ten Cadillacs, their noses buried in the dirt, stood like sentinels of artistic rebellion against the backdrop of the sprawling Texas plains. The cars, covered in countless layers of vibrant spray paint, seemed to glow in the fading light. Each car was a canvas, a chaotic blend of messages, names, and designs left by visitors from around the world.
The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dry earth and spray paint. It was quiet, save for the occasional crunch of gravel beneath my boots and the distant hum of passing cars on the highway. I found my angle, putting the Cadillacs between me and the sun. The ancient cars stretched toward the fiery sky. The sunset was perfection, the kind of scene that makes you stop and appreciate the raw beauty of nature.
As I clicked the shutter, I marveled at the juxtaposition of human creativity and nature’s grandeur. The Cadillacs stood defiant and weathered, much like the Panhandle itself—rugged, unyielding, and full of character. I thought about the irony of growing up in Amarillo, so close to this world-famous site, yet never visiting until I’d moved away. Sometimes, it takes leaving to truly see the beauty in what you’ve left behind.
The shot turned out better than I could have hoped, the vibrant colors of the cars standing out against the deepening hues of the sunset. As the last rays of light dipped below the horizon, I stood in silence, soaking in the moment. Cadillac Ranch wasn’t just a stop on Route 66—it was a piece of history, a living canvas, and now, a part of my story.
Walking back to my car, I felt a sense of gratitude. Amarillo had given me my roots, and photography had given me the eyes to truly see it. Cadillac Ranch was more than an art installation that evening; it was a reminder of the beauty that exists in our own backyards, waiting to be discovered.
Returning to Amarillo for the holidays is always a trip down memory lane. I had spent the first 23 years of my life here, yet somehow as an Amarillo resident, I’d never made the pilgrimage to Cadillac Ranch, the iconic Route 66 art installation just west of town. It wasn’t until I became a photographer that I truly began to appreciate the cultural treasures of the places I once called home.
As the sun began its slow descent, I felt the pull of the open plains. In the Texas Panhandle, sunsets aren’t just an event—they’re a spectacle. If there’s a place on Earth with more stunning sunsets, I haven’t found it. The fiery glow of the horizon always seems to stretch endlessly, painting the expansive sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.
I grabbed my camera and drove west on I-40, arriving at Cadillac Ranch just as the sky began to transform. The line of ten Cadillacs, their noses buried in the dirt, stood like sentinels of artistic rebellion against the backdrop of the sprawling Texas plains. The cars, covered in countless layers of vibrant spray paint, seemed to glow in the fading light. Each car was a canvas, a chaotic blend of messages, names, and designs left by visitors from around the world.
The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dry earth and spray paint. It was quiet, save for the occasional crunch of gravel beneath my boots and the distant hum of passing cars on the highway. I found my angle, putting the Cadillacs between me and the sun. The ancient cars stretched toward the fiery sky. The sunset was perfection, the kind of scene that makes you stop and appreciate the raw beauty of nature.
As I clicked the shutter, I marveled at the juxtaposition of human creativity and nature’s grandeur. The Cadillacs stood defiant and weathered, much like the Panhandle itself—rugged, unyielding, and full of character. I thought about the irony of growing up in Amarillo, so close to this world-famous site, yet never visiting until I’d moved away. Sometimes, it takes leaving to truly see the beauty in what you’ve left behind.
The shot turned out better than I could have hoped, the vibrant colors of the cars standing out against the deepening hues of the sunset. As the last rays of light dipped below the horizon, I stood in silence, soaking in the moment. Cadillac Ranch wasn’t just a stop on Route 66—it was a piece of history, a living canvas, and now, a part of my story.
Walking back to my car, I felt a sense of gratitude. Amarillo had given me my roots, and photography had given me the eyes to truly see it. Cadillac Ranch was more than an art installation that evening; it was a reminder of the beauty that exists in our own backyards, waiting to be discovered.
Photo Credit: Robbie Green Photography
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