Roots

My roots have been showing lately. NO, not my haircolor. I notice the "ya'lls" and the "give me a hollar" are coming back in force. I even wave at every car that passes me on the road. (You know the index finger wave. P.s. that will get you a dirty look here in Il.) Listening to the radio I had a realization, every where my parents have lived has been quite litterally "where the blacktop ends." They lived in Salem about a quarter mile from the dirt roads and now actually live on a dirt road. Not litterally "on the road." You know what I mean.
I miss going outside and being creeped out by how quiet is is. Sitting in the dark almost watching the stars move across the sky. Most of all I miss the desert. Running bare hotfooted to the next spot of shade at 5pm and by 7pm your feet are freezing walking across the same path. The smell mesquite gives off during a rain storm, the whole world holding it breath for a split second as the sliver of sun comes over the horizon, the sun reflecting off the land when it clears.
Once on the phone with Daddy we talked about the mountains. I miss them. That's Heaven. Standing so high the air stings as you breathe, knowing your the only person for miles. Just to sit long enough that you can feel the forest move around you just like the stars. This country mouse loves her city house but she can sure use a slice of Heaven.