Unfathomable Fields

Yes, I love the city- you know that about me.

I’ve been captivated by the unique beauty of all those people,

and all that movement,

and all the sweeping, churning life of the city for years.

But I do have to tell you,

really for the sake of being honest,

that I’m kind of starting to love the rural space I’ve inhabited

for the past two months, too.

It started slowly, in January.

Awed by the white frost glistening in the early morning light,

entire trees, vast fields, all christened with the pristine white crystals.

A literal winter wonderland,

and I could barely keep my eyes on the road.

Now, as the snow (gloriously) has melted,

I can see the earth, the grass, the land, for what it is.

And on evenings like this one,

driving west once more, 12 hours after commuting the opposite way,

the sinking orange sun lights the rolling fields,

illuminating grass, dirt, hill,

in rich, brilliant light that hangs close to the ground,

permeating everything,

soaking the land, just beginning to taste spring,

in its gentle, persistent light.

And then, unmistakably then,

I start to love this open space,

these rural roads

with the tumble-down barns that dot the landscape,

and the unfathomably deep color that bathes it all,

more than I ever thought I would.



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