I got up early this morning. I couldn't sleep. Something was tugging at me, nudging me up and onto my front porch. I sat on my front porch and the sun hit my face. Sun! It's been a long time since I've seen or felt it. The wind was conducting a symphony. The leaves were obeying it's every whim, up, down, faster, slower, and while the leaves heeded the wind, the sun shone and danced on their backs, shimmering, swaying.
It's good to be home. I love it here. The corn is just beginning it's mindless march off into the horizon. When I next notice, it will be tall, erect, stately, soldiering it's way across the landscape, but this morning it's small, almost quiet, only in the beginning stages of forming it's rank and file. Green is sneaking up everywhere. When I look north there are deep patches of green in the distance, stands of trees interrupting the roll of the fields. I see poles holding power lines and pick up trucks ambling down the highway with sun dancing on their hoods, a water tower two miles north, also bathed in the glory of the sun, making it possible for me to see it from my front porch.
It was good to be home even if it was a quick trip. I hung out with mom and we chatted in her living room. I ate home made pizza and rhubarb dessert. I laughed with my sisters and danced the night away at my nephew's wedding. It's a place I can't see from my front porch. A place that shows up in most of my dreams. A place that is so familiar but yet also foreign. A place that will always be home.
Here's some pictures from the weekend.
My nephew Keith got married on Friday. Here he is with his mom and dad.
His new bride, Rhiannon.
My sister Brenda. What was she thinking?
My nephew Brian and his girlfriend Shannon.
Keith with his grandparents.
Mom and her girls.
So where's home? I honestly can't answer that question. If home is where your heart is, my heart is in two places. Perhaps for me, that's exactly how it should be.
It's simply home.