Home On The Range

And so it was. The Canadian had come home. Not home as it was, not home as she wished it could be, home as it shall be now, forever and always.

Visiting people and places she grew up in, endless coffee, car rides and writing. Family and friends had never been more welcome, but the loss that was so great only begged the question repeatedly, what is it all for?

The big white barn with the halloween trinkets still inside from years ago. Hay bales, the resounding moo of cattle. The brown house, concrete steps leading inside to the kitchen. He wasn't there.

Sleeping out in the field in the back of a pick up truck, waking up so warm and cosy with her sister. And she frolicked and ran, round and round. And she stood there. The stillness calmed her soul for a time or two.

Now take a deep breath and go off again to far and distant lands.

Breathe in.