it was a few weeks ago now, but it's still on my mind.
the wild beauty and the memories.
brett winterble on the radio and texting dear laura.
a weekend blowing with the wind across the prairie, and snow blowing in and out across our paths.
sitting next to daddy on the way home, hot dogs and raspberry ice tea at sam's.
sudaku and daddy's pen and reading glasses.
it was just a day. morning to afternoon. but a pretty one.
one left quiet and scrolling through my mind like a silent movie. only I was in it.
the wind was cold in kadoka. so cold. and i reckon there was a big smile on my face when big brother pulled up to the gas station. me watching from inside.
way out on the lonesome prairie, with scurbby brown hills with still a tint of last summer's gold. black, wind-whipped cedars and wall drug signs.
watching ranch girls drive by in beat up old pickup trucks, with hoodies and messy buns.
i knew the little days and the smith ranch, sleep overs on birthdays and sleeping in the boys' room cause it was the only bed big enough for three girls. and tater-tot casserole.
climbing shale hills and a dog called missy. cats, so many cats.
and it was kind of like skimming over pictures of the old days. not reliving them, not dreaming of them, not wishing to go back--but just looking at them as if they were postcards from some place you'd once been. a very pretty one. one that makes you miss it. a lot, and a curly haired girl called melanie.