My car was perfectly clean until that moment when I left the windows cracked and all of the little leaves from the tree decided to slide their way in. I don't even know how they did it, but the floor and the seats are covered with tiny little leaf dots.

But besides my pointless car story. I am wondering if it is possible to have the country ingrained in your heart when you are from the city. I don't know if it's something I've carried for my whole life unknowingly, or if it's due to my recently renewed relationship with Michigan, but my heart is yearning for a life away from the city. I had a moment getting off of the interstate in Provo the other night, where I was surrounded by prairie grass, and Neko Case was sad-singing, where my heart felt like it was going to burst. I love Utah, so much. I love my church family and the work God is doing here. I love the mountains and the cute little blue houses and the fact that you just can't get lost. But, sometimes I have this incredibly frustrating emotion that makes me want to drop everything and run back to a place that I didn't even come from. How this get inside of me? I wish I could understand it.

I suppose I can find those places in Utah. Days spent wandering various canyon meadows, or nights watching the stars from the fields. But I can't and won't forget my times in the middle. Thanks for the reminder, Neko.


"weave between the seasons, under bridges and the valley, 'til the winds out on the prairie whip the tears from my eyes."