Indiana wants me

There's merely a walking path through my front room. Boxes are stacked up the walls where the pictures once hung. The many days of sort, purge, pack are coming to an end. I am looking forward to new beginnings.

I'm going to miss the spanish moss drooping from ancient oak trees and egrets landing in our yard. I won't miss the hard rains pounding on the tin roof or the bugs, as big as a man's thumb. I won't miss the days when it's 92 degrees at 11:30 a.m. and so humid that one's skin gets sticky just walking from the front door to the car.

I am looking forward to feeling a cool breeze in the shade under a huge maple tree and I want to see that same maple tree turn orange, yellow and red in the fall. I want to rake those leaves and watch the first silent snow sparkle, before footprints make a path. I want to see Christmas lights shining on that snow on a clear night.

family
Indiana

It's what my soul craves, John-Boy
The Happy Medium