It has lived in me for years
Wielding unparalleled force
This simple sound
A sound so prominent, unmistakable
Carried on the wind, or piercing
Through the still of night
It dutifully serves as a reminder
A reminder of days long past
The way things used to be
An enduring, lonely yearning, hunkering low
There in that wail
We know love
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Monday, January 20, 2014
Friday, July 8, 2011
Country
I realized today why I am drawn to many things "country". When I got in my car this morning to head to work my radio was tuned, as usual, to the local country station. I don't even remember now what song was on, but that's when it hit me...everything country brings me comfort, a sense of warmth and safety - a sense of home.
Country, bluegrass, string and old-time music; big ol' trucks & tractors; beat-up baseball caps and well-worn jeans, peanuts in a Coke; cowboy hats, boots & belt buckles; whiskey; hayrides; sweet southern drawls; porch swings and rocking chairs; firefly-lighted hay fields; farm houses and old barns; far away train-whistle blows; incoming storm breezes rollin' through the trees; sweet iced tea, biscuits, black-eyed peas, collard greens and southern-fried everything; catchin' catfish on moonlit ponds; pistols and shotguns; good ol' huntin' dogs; honky-tonk bars; heat lightning in a summer sky; Sunday afternoon picnics; cut-off jeans, simple cotton sundresses & big, floppy hats; pigtails & braids; chivalry of southern gentlemen; warm evening berry pickin'; starry-skied lakeside truck-bed cuddling; lil' cabins in the woods; county fair livestock shows; window-sill cooled fresh peach pie; rain on a tin roof; great big family reunions. These are all things I love to think of, to have, and to know. These are all things I love.
The strangest part of all of this is that not all of these things are things that I grew up with, yet they are still soothing, romantic and familiar to me. Even for all of the aspects of my personality and life that can't be so easily and deeply identified with that of a down-home country girl, I know that at my core I am at least a little bit country and always will be.
Country, bluegrass, string and old-time music; big ol' trucks & tractors; beat-up baseball caps and well-worn jeans, peanuts in a Coke; cowboy hats, boots & belt buckles; whiskey; hayrides; sweet southern drawls; porch swings and rocking chairs; firefly-lighted hay fields; farm houses and old barns; far away train-whistle blows; incoming storm breezes rollin' through the trees; sweet iced tea, biscuits, black-eyed peas, collard greens and southern-fried everything; catchin' catfish on moonlit ponds; pistols and shotguns; good ol' huntin' dogs; honky-tonk bars; heat lightning in a summer sky; Sunday afternoon picnics; cut-off jeans, simple cotton sundresses & big, floppy hats; pigtails & braids; chivalry of southern gentlemen; warm evening berry pickin'; starry-skied lakeside truck-bed cuddling; lil' cabins in the woods; county fair livestock shows; window-sill cooled fresh peach pie; rain on a tin roof; great big family reunions. These are all things I love to think of, to have, and to know. These are all things I love.
The strangest part of all of this is that not all of these things are things that I grew up with, yet they are still soothing, romantic and familiar to me. Even for all of the aspects of my personality and life that can't be so easily and deeply identified with that of a down-home country girl, I know that at my core I am at least a little bit country and always will be.
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