You all probably already knew it, but today I think I confirmed it.  Had to drive to Champaign this morning, and driving through the farmland at 6 in the morning all I could think about was the incredible beauty of a country sunrise.  And yesterday, while walking the dogs around the lake, the sound of the songbirds gave me the feeling of coming home.  Perhaps, it’s that these sounds and sights are so familiar to me and that is the comfort.  I have known these sounds since childhood, and they really haven’t changed.  The gentle humming of a tractor in the distance, the whirring noise of an oil pump, the wind in the cedar trees near the house, and the songbirds who chatter as evening approaches.

Even in winter, although the landscape is browns and grays there is the silvery blue of the sky and the dark silhouettes of the bare trees.  Driving along the road, the stark landscape would suddenly warm with the bleached creamy yellow of a fallow field or the rays of sun across the green of winter wheat.

And, spring seems to truly be around the corner.  The temperature is somewhat mild, but the wind has an element of warmth behind it.  It’s not the bone chilling wind that cuts through you; it’s the hectic breath of spring rushing forth, pushing the seasons forward.

Enough waxing poetic.  It was a beautiful day, and tonight will be beautiful because I have the luxury of sharing it with my grandmother, mother, and an aunt.  Things to be grateful for.

As ever,

K. Quinn