Anyway, when we came through last year, I was stunned by the scenery. It was almost like home, but warmer. More...cowboy-y. I know that doesn't make sense. But I really really liked it. I think that when I leave Wisconsin, I'm moving back home. But it might be nice (if I could afford and stand another move) to live in Montana for a year or so.
But I was just looking at some images of Montana, and...I guess miss home even more than I thought. When you spend your whole life surrounded on all sides by mountains, then move somewhere where you are surrounded by cows, it takes a toll on you. At least there are trees here. And don't get me wrong, I like Wisconsin. It's lovely. It's just...not home.
At least I didn't move to the desert. I've visited the desert, I liked it there, but I was always happy to return north.
God, I miss it. Sometimes, when the sun is at just the right angle here, just coming over the trees, and maybe the wind is a little brisk and smells like rain or snow, and rustles the leaves on the trees, I close my eyes and think I'm home again. Then a little hint of chocolate works its way into the breeze, or grain, or manure, and I'm here. But I suspect that when I DO leave Wisconsin, I will miss it, if only a little, just as I miss Oregon now. When I lived in Ashland, I swore I'd never live there again, but I think I would. If I was a millionaire, because let's face it. Ashland is a damn expensive place to live.
Anyway. That's my dose of melancholy and sentimentality for the day.
Pictures of Home, if anyone's interested. No, I did not take these photos.