To touch an old house and feel its stories seep right through you. I could barely keep myself in the car as we drove along those quiet farm roads. How much the old walls have seen. Baked in hot suns in the drought while cornfields wilted, weathered and braving an unbroken land, and storms that wiped a man's dreams from his heart.
How many tears have you borne? How man souls have you sheltered from winter and watched them grow?
Oh, this country. And I loved it. Loved it as if my soul had filled right up with it and couldn't hold it all. I did not want to leave it behind and this world of green, and trees along the rivers, and farmers.
For now, I love it more than our wild golden prairies. And I wish I could have succumbed to their silent plea for me stay forever.
We went to the Cutler's after the graduation. And Laura said from the driver's seat, "You'll love the Cutler's house."
You wanted to consume them, to take in all that they were.Their new, fresh voices, breathing out laughter and smiles. I could have listened all day if there hadn't been the promise of spending time with Laura, Grace & Co.