Reading this took me back to my own childhood and my memories of place. I had to drive "into town" today and I caught myself considering how much the corn has grown in the past week and how the rain is a good thing. In my formative years it was wheat, and even though I see nothing but corn now my fondest memories are of traveling in western Kansas and watching the wind whip the wheat about. I swear you could see the curvature of the earth and while many would think of it as being desolate I always thought it was beautiful. Corn doesn't hold the same charm for me, but there is still the sense of wide open space.

My mom has often said that when she goes to the mountains she gets claustrophobic and wants to get out onto open land. I understand that and feel the same way. The prairie has made up a large part of who I am and as much as I want to sometimes be anywhere but here I'm not sure I'd be truly at home anywhere else.