On a quiet county road
a woman sells vegetables and red elderberry jam
She rolls down her awning as lightening splits the sky and
rain pounds down in sheets.
Logging trucks thunder in slick dirt tracks
lumbering across iron-stained streams
"In the boonies..."
"we're in the sticks"
my midwest nomenclature returns.
Tracks of old growth forest,
maple, hemlock, oak
surround our old cottage where
the smell of pine and the wired hum of cicadas
sting the air.
Out back, rotted firewood is stacked
Moored in the beach grass a wooden boat sleeps,
worn by wind and weather.
Should we sell the white sands
at Happy Landing
Where there is no nonsense,
no fast foods and
no new thing under the sun?
Over the years, I have developed a great affinity for the southwest, especially Taos, New Mexico, a place I dearly love and visit periodically. I've heard myself mutter, "I could live here" while visiting..it is such a beautiful place with a special artful energy. But this trip has brought back so many memories. Though wanderlust could be my second name, maybe at heart I'll always be a northern girl.
Have you ever imagined living somewhere else at another time in your life? How does landscape and a sense of place color your thoughts on where and how you want to live?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location: Upper Peninsula, Michigan