I Carry It All

I carry the red dirt on my bare feet from days of walking through tall grass in dense woods, trees looming high above me alongside the moss below me. Gleaming rays of sun burst from the canopy onto the deprived earth, while the surrounding leaves sing their lullaby into the breeze. The heat of the sun counteracts the cool of the dirt as it stains my skin, imprinting within me the land itself.

I carry the smell of summer rain. The rain that precedes a deathly storm, the kind that causes windows to shake and towns to go black. The sky’s so dark it seems to be an endless night, a backdrop to the pounding on the tin roof. Crashes of thunder that shake you to your core, breath getting faster as the wind slows. Lightning illuminating the horizon, rain soaking you to the bone. Until it stops, and the world is calm and beautiful in the aftermath, leaving only you as a remnant of the tempest.

I carry the whistling of wheat in the wind as I walk along the old wooden fence. Above, the sky is transforming, stuck between the brightness of evening and grey of dusk. Rolling pastures with grazing cattle stretch for miles on end on the other side of the fence. The wind lets out a sigh, causing the wheat to whisper soft nothings to me as I climb and rest atop the post, watching life play before my eyes.

I carry the sizzling of the steak on the grill as music flows through the radio. Smoke seeps out the top and rises in plumes of grey against the blue expanse above. You hear the distinct clinking of horseshoes against each other and the soft laughter of your family. The contentment is palpable around you, happiness woven into the very air you breath. Your mouth waters as you catch the scent of a home cooked meal drifting past and so you just smile and sing along with the music, knowing that this is a memory worth holding onto.

I carry the cool water of a lake as I take too deep a breath. It is clear to the bottom as I wade along the top. The sun reflects along the surface, casting a warm glow around me. I blink up and watch as droplets of water slide down my eyelashes, rippling as they break the barrier between water and air. The motor of the boat is echoing along the cliffs as it draws closer, so I close my eyes and lay along the surface trusting in the water.

I carry the twinkling stars of a southern sky from nights of endless gazing. Even after years of always looking up, I never tire of seeing the bright expanse of gleaming fire above me. The moon lights up the dark world below, a silent protector to the resting souls, always watching. There are no clouds. Everything is clear and visible. You can see the glittering array above trying to tell you a story centuries old. As we look into the endless expanse of space we read what isn’t written.

I carry the essence of every place that’s been my home, the places that made me who I am. As I watched life around me change, these places grew me. I learned love and friendship; I felt the energy of life coursing through green forests; I discovered who I am. The nature lover, the storm chaser, the girl who belongs nowhere, yet everywhere. Wherever I am I will always know the feeling of red clay between my toes, and the static calm in the air before the storm hits. I will always hold the smell of campfires and pastures within me. And in my eyes, there will always shine the stars of home.