He came pedaling down the highway from the east, a middle-aged cyclist with a full, graying beard. On a modern, aerodynamic bicycle towing a small trailer for his gear.

He parked on the other side of the cattleguard from my check station, asking if I was the check station the signs were talking about.

Yep.

"You wouldn't happen to have any water to spare?"

We're in the middle of nowhere. Three days ago this country was covered with snow, now it is dusty, windy and over 80 degrees.

Yeah, I've got water. Six gallons. You're welcome to all you can carry.

As he heads back to the bike for his water jugs, I can tell he's too chipper.

He doesn't know.

Like so many others I've met out here in the wilds today.

When he gets back, I simply ask him.

You haven't heard, have you?

He makes a joke about World War III being over, and we're all that's left of civilization?

I point out the clear skies.

You can see 20-30 miles in every direction from here.

No contrails.

Not one.

Never seen that before. Hope to never see it again.

He had noticed the flag at half mast at the Post Office he passed twenty miles back.

"Did Bush die?"

So I tell him. About the hijacked planes, the terrorists, the crumpled buildings.

About our changed world.

This is not the first time I have had to break the news out here today.

His reaction is stronger than most. Almost too strong.

"God damn it! Why can't we learn?"

He rants some more about the inhumanity of man. The futility of violence. And then settles to ask questions about today. And out of the blue starts talking about his wife.

His Irish wife, of 18 years, who he practically forced to go home alone to Ireland to visit her dying mother.

His Irish wife, who died with her mother in an IRA terrorist bombing.

Analysts will talk about how terrorism has come to America today.

For some people it has already been here.

I want to put down great words here, words that will make sense of today. Words that will support and heal. Words that will earn the compliments of compassion and empathy I have received from some of you.

But I don't have any.

I want to read so many of your diaries today, to see how you feel, what you think.

I am hoping you will all be there. That none of you have lost someone close to you.

But I cannot do it tonight.

No diaries tonight.