What makes San Angelo, Tex., distinctive

I've barely made it down the road from the airport, but I can't resist. I pull the rental car over and jump out.

I'm in the West Texas city of San Angelo, in a field that's empty except for a lone combine amid some trees. Storms have been circling — good news in a state longing for drought relief — and I can trace them at the horizon, far in the distance. Dark clouds start to open on one side of the expanse, and rain pours down who knows how many miles away. The sun breaks through in another direction, and its rays stream through like one of those Renaissance paintings of heaven meeting earth. I turn around, and across the highway, puffball clouds streak across powder blue; over there, it's an entirely new day.

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Joby Warrick 08 Oct, 2011


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