traveling light

ImageTowering pine trees silhouetted against the waning light of a setting sun.

Driving down a country road with my hand out the window, feeling the alternating currents of cool and warm air dance around it.

Cleaning my barn wood floors with Murphy’s oil soap, like my mother does, and being immediately transported to my parents’ home in Texas.  They say (whoever “they” are) that the sense of smell is most strongly tied to our memories.

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