Home

Pulling out of my street to go down to the Lake, I notice the lady across the street (the wealthy one, with the big ol' house) is standing by the fence, watching her horse. The donkey (Sian admits now it is one, instead of a miniature pony) runs across the pasture. It's a fabulous night, cool, a little windy, a great night for the summer solstice.

I crank up a Chris Daughtry song, which just happens to be "Home"...I'm going home, to the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me."

I walk, and then I run, past the fishermen and women, watching the boats on the lake, reveling in the beauty. I knew as soon as I ran down the road to the Marsh Creek Lake that I belonged. I wonder why it took me so long to find the place that reaches out to me in memory even when I am miles away-my spirits lifting when the Wallace sign shows up right before the bridge.

Coming home, I almost run down a man and a woman walking in the dusk down Fairview. Idiots, I think to myself. Then I recall the first time I came through Glenmoore on Creek Road.

Down the empty road a woman and her children walked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. I want to live here, I thought-so close to suburbia and so far.

Go for it, I say silently to the couple as they walk out of the darkness of the trees. Have fun. Just be glad I saw you this time!