Way Out Here

I spent far too many years as a city girl, corrupted by the surroundings and without much hope of more than just avoiding the bone wrenching work that I saw my mother deal with to survive. Kids sharp as knives and honed to a chilly edge that had no mercy -they were my playmates…rivals…comrades in arms. Old, old even before one was old enough to drive.

The escape of books was all I had and they were all Elsewhere, I realize now. Other times, other places, and never the real crime/murder mystery types because that was no mystery to me. I only needed a couple decades to work all that out and wend my way here, to sanity.

Now I can enjoy that sunset without smudged buildings blocking the light. We can watch the hay being rolled into giant ho-ho’s, and hear the low call of the cattle in the pasture at the end of the block. We can lean on the truck, talking to friends, and giggle at the local kids yelling “Marco…Pollo!”

It will likely all come crashing down and kids may not yell much at all for a few years. The cities will be unlivable. Out here, though, the tractors will run and the corn will grow. The tomatoes will be cherished and the chickens protected like the gold others thought wise to hold in their condos.

Way out here…life will go on as it always has, carried on by the people who know what it means to make do and get by. And a new soundtrack will grow from that experience. It is starting now. Sing along…

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