Wednesday, September 30, 2009
During work last night, a YMCA member mentioned to me how beautiful the leaves are turning this year in Washington. As I agreed and listened to their story politely, I couldn't help but think of home.
If you don't know, I was born and raised in Iowa where each of the season are uniquely defined. As "corny" as it may seem, Iowa will always be considered home. The people are real, hard-working...neighbors know one another and 4-H calves are considered "family". (If you're from Iowa...can I hear an AHEM!)
Fall has always been one of my favorite season as it ignites all of my senses. The leaves in Iowa are exceptionally bright, vivid and display array of colors including: red, burnt red, browns, and yellows.
I love Fall in Iowa. Often if I let my mind drift and close my eyes tight enough, images of leaves tumble to the ground as the soft hum of a combine harvesting corn fill my ears. A deep, distinct smell reminds me of the smell in the air on a crisp, Fall night watching high school football. I reach down and pick up a crunchy red leave in my rake-blistered hands from the pile in front of me. I am home.
Unfortunately, my trips home are fewer (usually once a year), but in my mind when I least expect it...like at work last night...I am home.
From inside the little blue bungalow,