i love coming home to my family's farm... it's the one place in the world where i feel like i can actually breathe. i've never been anywhere where i feel more at home than i do here... even when i was a kid and this was my grandparents' house, i always felt safe here.
i think one of my favorite things about coming here is that it always storms right after i arrive... [self-revealing factoid numero uno for the day: i positively adore thunderstorms] - there's just something so wonderfully exhilarating and yet so peaceful about hearing the rain on the metal roof... about being able to see lightning for miles without any street lights or buildings to obstruct the view - just the trees and the hilltops and the surrounding farms backlit in violent bursts of light.
on clear, temperate nights, you can lay a quilt down on the grass and stare up at the sky and it looks as if it's light outside for all of the stars; you can see the milky way so clearly it looks as if you could reach out and take a piece of it for yourself [were it not millions of lightyears away and all]... i have fallen asleep on the grass in front of the farmhouse many nights because i've stayed out looking at the stars for too long.
i've honestly never considered myself to have roots in any one place - i have roots with people, but not really to a town, city or building in particular. recently i've come to realize and be comforted by the fact that i do have roots - very deep ones - here... on the farm that always welcomes me with a symphony of rain.