Cows and Donkeys.

So I recently took some time to do a long overdue road trip to my hometown in Saskatchewan. I was lucky enough to be raised in this beautiful prairie landscape. I had an amazing childhood exploring the blanketed golden fields and basking under the vast and unending skies that once belonged to me. Or that was how it felt. That it was all for me and me alone. That is how the wide open prairies can make you feel. No noise. No chaos. No weight.

So as I ventured out on my road trip, I reflected. I gripped the steering wheel with both hands as I passed a highway sign ripped in two from the beautiful breeze that is often passing through the prairies. I amused myself by counting the cows along the highway… wait… is that a donkey? That’s new. Okay. Still. I drive. And I appreciate. And I reflect.

I did not always feel that way about the prairies. Like any restless young individual, I wanted out. I wanted the noise. And the chaos. And the weight. I had a thirst for more. I was tired of the vast nothingness. I stopped noticing the endless skies and all the stars that lived there. I focused solely on the boredom that only a young unappreciative brat could focus on. And the cold. And the wind. And the mosquitos. Ugh. Blech. Blah. (Okay still don’t like that stuff)

So I left. I left and I quenched my thirst. Life was not easy as you know but I did learn and I explored and I ventured. And sometimes it was good. Bud sadly, I lost my roots. I was pulled away without realizing what was happening. I was disconnected from what I knew and what would always be there for me. I was blocked from what was my foundation. And I got lost. Someone led me away and I got lost.

It took me a lot of courage and strength to find my way back. And when I did, I vowed I would never break those roots again. As is only the way of a solid foundation, it is always there waiting for you. Waiting to replant the roots and nurture them so they can grow once again. Deeper and stronger than they were before.

Although this is no longer my current home (and I do love my current home), this is and will always be home to a piece of my heart. The people and the landscape house my roots and water and feed them regularly. So I drive. And I appreciate. And I reflect. And my heart is full.

This is all for me and me alone. And the donkey. I can share.

“Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.