I live on one end of this road.
The world, on the other.
I love that separating me from (or bridging me to…A matter of perspective?) that world is a red dirt road.
A path made of earth—clay, sand and gravel that groans and shifts as if irritated when my shoes or tires touch down on my journeys into town.
Yet, when I return, that same gravel responds with more of a sigh and an exhale, as if relaxing and awakening to a new peace, a respite.
A breathing space.
A coming home.
In that world that I visit each day, there is concrete and street noise and frenzied people and busyness.
Back home, there is nature (everywhere) and chirping birds and two happy dogs and an unvoiced truce with nature.
I go to town to get my exercise, my supplies, my need for human interaction, and my updates on which neighbors’ lives have changed and how.
Then I return home, fully stocked and satisfied, and cherish a self-imposed intermission from society for a while. A chance to breathe, to relax, to write.
Concrete used to make up a great percentage of my life.
Now it’s dirt.
And life is great.
What about you? Dirt or concrete?
“I’ve come to know, there’s life at both ends of that red dirt road.” – Brooks and Dunn
Beautiful post, Debra. Concrete makes up the greatest percentage of my life. If not for the grandchildren, my dream would be a driveway much like yours leading up a windy mountain road with curves that hug and whisper “Welcome home!” at every turn.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Cathy, love that verbal picture you paint. I miss those mountains. That’s why my future “tiny house” will be in the mountains! :o)
Love this Deb and will always love dirt better than concrete. I have some concrete around me, because my husband has put it there, but no busyness……well sometimes.) I love having dirt and wide open spaces and lots of breathing room and yes, life is good.
Mandy, I wish we lived close enough to go walking together. I think it would give me a great mind-set for the day!
Lovely, and do beautifully written.