On homecoming

I woke up at 5 a.m. on my first morning back in Texas, and laid in bed until I saw the first glow of dawn through my old bedroom window. I don’t often get a chance to witness the sunrise (unless I’ve been out all night), so I actually kind of like the opportunity that jet-lag gives me to wake up this early. I crept out of bed and out the back door to greet the chilly morning. The ranch looks beautiful this time of year, and my mothers garden is in full winter production, offering up colorful cabbages, artichokes and kale. I always savor my first morning on visits home- it’s when I am most observant and appreciative of my surroundings, and the most nostalgic. Beyond the garden gate, the horses stomped and snorted, steam rising from their nostrils, as they impatiently awaited their morning meal. I whispered an apology into their soft ears, “I would, but I don’t even know where they keep your feed. I don’t live here anymore.”