Feels Like I'm Home

The rain chased us in as we sped across the prairie. And I remembered how much I love a Texas thunderstorm. Strong and earthy, waking up the smells of a grassland. If I could bottle the scent of sagebrush and prairie grass after a storm, I think I'd feel at home wherever I went.

It's the kind of place you appreciate more when it isn't your everyday.  For most people, it is an unremarkable piece of land on a long drive to somewhere else.  But for me it is a place to simply be.

Sometimes coming home is complicated. I feel torn, unsettled, unmoored. Caught somewhere between two worlds. But this time I just feel like I'm home.

And it's good.

It's been a year, but nothing has changed...

The sky is still smokey gray blue after the rain.  My favorite color.

The wheat stubble is still vibrantly golden - as if lit by an inner light - in the aftermath of a storm.

The sunset still spreads across the horizon - reaching pink and purple fingers into the furthest reaches.

The stars still spill across the night sky - dizzying in their depth and number.

It's good to be home.  Breathing deeply and seeking solitude in this quiet place... it is good for my soul.

Photo Credit