In Chapter 36 of American Dirt, Cummins uses colorful imagery and personification to describe the end of Lydia and Luca's journey:
Lydia can’t see it from the dark place where she is, but she can sense it. [...] She imagines the colors making a show of themselves outside. The glittering gray pavement, the aching red land. The colors streaking flamboyantly across the sky. When she closes her eyes she can see them, the paint in the firmament. Dazzling. Purple, yellow, orange, pink, and blue. She can see those perfect colors, hot and bright, a feathered headdress. Beneath, the landscape stretches out its arms.
This imagery conveys the hope and relief Lydia feels once the journey is near complete. The scene is full of "dazzling" color: "Purple, yellow, orange, pink, and blue." The scene is so bright it almost feels like a firework exploding.
In this scene, Lydia is still riding in the back of the van. She cannot actually see the landscape; all of this imagery is in her imagination. As a result, it's clear that it's the result of her projecting a certain idea onto what's actually in front of her. The language she chooses clues readers into her emotional state, and the brightness of this scene shows how much hope she has about reaching America. Nothing about their journey so far has been "flamboyant[]." They've witnessed death and devastation, and they've feared for their lives. But Lydia's joy at having made it, rather than her exhaustion from the journey, is what comes through in this imagery.
Additionally, Cummins uses personification in this passage when she writes that the landscape "stretches out its arms." The landscape obviously does not have arms, but this image shows that Lydia feels welcomed in by America and the land she has reached. "El Norte," to her, has not lost its mythical allure.