|My dad always carries a gun when we take walks into the|
woods in case we get attacked by a gang of snakes. We never do.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
“Home is the nicest word there is.”
Lately I've really been missing Springtime and all of the lovely things that accompany it. I miss the honeysuckles and the vibrant greenery. I miss the Easter celebrations with my family and exploring outside. I took these pictures this past April at my childhood home as my Dad, my niece, and I walked around outside. We were enjoying the comfortable weather and enjoying the scenery. Berries were growing and ripening. We would eat them straight from the tree. Caterpillars were exploring as well. The biggest thing I miss about living at home is being close to nature. My parent's house is out in the middle of the woods with no distractions or interruptions. You can walk around barefoot and talk, yell, or sing as loud as you want. You can wear ridiculous clothing and not bother with anyone seeing you. I miss the sounds of the crickets, bugs, and various animals. I miss the smell of the air. The trees, overgrown grass, flowers, everything. I miss seeing the wildflowers pop up at the most random places. I miss finding fungi of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I miss the muddy swamp water, the cypress knees, and my Dad's bamboo. I miss the random tools and junk leaning against trees. I miss the sunbeams beating down on your body and the sun peaking out from behind the trees, illuminating all of the leaves. I miss seeing things that haven't changed since I was a kid, like handmade wooden squirrel feeders nailed onto trees. Wooden planks made into a bridge to cross a ditch. Even though right now I live a few hours away in the "city", this will always be my home. This is where I made my clubhouses with my friends. This is where I developed my imagination. This is where I got my scrapes and bruises. This is where I had my sleepovers and where I made all of my memories. This is where I came from.