Wide Open Spaces

On the way to work this morning, I drove through our little town. I looked at the houses and the split-rail fences and the rooster in our neighbors’ yard. Have you ever seen a cat have a good stretch in the sun and then curl up for a nap? That’s exactly how my soul felt. It just seems to fit. I feel completely at home in this little town, even though we don’t know anybody yet.

Those who know me would undoubtedly be surprised by this. I am a little surprised by it myself. My family moved to a similar small town when I was nine, and I spent the next nine years of my life trying to get out of it. That particular town is still not somewhere where I feel that I can live, but I think I am ultimately a small-town girl at heart. I love going to the hairdresser and catching up on all the town gossip. I like the fact that, one day, if we live here long enough, when I go grocery shopping I will know the people who shop there and the people who work there, and we’ll all say hi and ask how one another is doing.

There is a lot of convenience to living in a city, but I already find myself driving a little slower and breathing a little easier. It sounds like I’m making it up, but I’m not. I come from generations of farmers, and I was created to love having room for my soul to stretch, to be able to breathe in deeply. To be able to see the stars at night, and to sit and drink lemonade on my front porch.

I already knew I was 100% Southerner, but I am suddenly discovering my inner farm-girl. And I like her.

(I have no idea why I have been so verbose the past few days. I assume I’ll slow down in a day or two.)

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