Home.

I came from a place not many are familiar with. It isn't a specific place on a map. It's a life. A life that has been romanticized by film, photography and song lyrics. Although I my self am guilty of romanticizing it, our life was in fact full of scrapes and bruises along the way. But it was a good life. My body aches for it some days. My heart longs for it most all the time.

Drive 7 miles south from a sleepy little town. Turn down a rough dirt road with foot deep ruts, drive 5 more miles. When you think you've hit the Mexican border, drive a little further. Home.

Drive west 15 miles. Turn south on a caliche road. Drive 3 miles. Take the cattleguard to the right. Drive 10 more miles down the dirt road. Cross Tobacco Creek. You'll see it just before the Colorado River. Home.

Drive east 5 miles. Turn south down the old dirt road. Drive half a mile. Look behind that house there. See that spot just beyond the brush? Home.

Go to the barn. Head toward the trap. Go through the gate, you'll have to use the cheater bar. Climb down to the dry river bed. Hear the water as it runs down the rocks and in to the swimming hole? The waterfall...Home.

Turn by the Macy Ranch sign. Drive down to the racehorse barn, the house isn't there any more but the memories are. Home.

See that ole yellow paint standing in the pasture? Home.

I look at photographs, I dream of days gone by.

I see my Momma strummin' her guitar singing softly as she strums an old Emmylou tune. I see her small hands make a believer out of a headstrong mare.

I see my Daddy pitch his houlihan around the neck of some ole ranch horse. I see his hands work magic on metal and silver.

I see my sister as she flies around the barrels on her bay mare. I see her as she runs the needle in the brandin' pen.

I see myself - long blonde hair hanging behind my 5 inch brim hat, pants tucked in my handmade yellow top boots. A long legged border collie at the heels of my ranch horse is noticeably wet from taking a swim in the tank. I see me.

I see all these things and I see home.



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Flashforward.

My home is different now. 13th street is where you'll find me. It's a house with a man I call home inside of it. Someday, we'll have a house that's really a home. I hope it's some where down a dirt road where I can see my horses from my kitchen window. Where our children can grow up knowing there is so much more life beyond a city limit sign.


Peace, Love & Red Dirt,

Whitterbree