Turning north at West Memphis, I breathe a bit easier. The air seems lighter, the skies clearer.  An ordinary trip driven countless times now fortifies me, replenishes memories, helps me remember.  

     A crop duster tilts his yellow wing in my direction, then turns and dips before misting fertilizer across winter wheat. Like crocus pushing through the cold, he is a first sign of spring.  To dazed travelers and long-haul truckers, the flat landscape appears dead and dull, yet I know life churns beneath wet fields. 

     In the distance, a recent thunderstorm hovers over the Mississippi River. Clouds hang heavy and purple.

talya

Musical Pairing:

Home Sweet Home, The Farm