Where’s Your Heart?

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Windows and doors opened since the sun set yesterday and sweet country smells flowing through my house.  There just might be something to this living in the Valley of the Sun, other than sweating your tail off 24/7.   Sweet dreams last night until the coyotes moved in from the hills and desert to raid city folks garbage.  City dogs to the north of us were howling and barking, trying to either keep up with the noise from the wild creatures or trying to scare them off.  It was a wild tune my ears yearn for, reminding me of my little house on the prairie in Montana.

My girls didn’t pay much attention to all the racket.  They would never bark at the coyotes in Montana until they came onto our side of the creek or were walking through the yard.  We laid in bed last night listening to the yapping and howling until we fell back into a peaceful sleep, with cool air drifting through the open door in our bedroom.  I laid there thinking just maybe, suffering through all the heat and sweat is worth this time of year here.

I knew a man once that all he could talk about was living back in his home state of Kentucky again.  I thought the area was nice but I never really understood how he felt.  Kentucky was nice but there are other nice places.  I have been lucky enough to live in several of them.  They say home is where the heart is and I suppose that is true.  That man’s heart was always in Kentucky.  I now understand.  I have a lovely home here, the area is lovely, the best of two worlds.  Almost like living in the country, lots of horse properties around us and yet we are only minutes from everything we want or need.  However, my heart is in Montana.

Maybe, like the man I know who is now living back in his beloved Kentucky, I will one day return to Montana.  Where the winds blow, and the sky is big.  The mountains reach for the sky and the rivers run clean and cold.  The prairie lands stretch out like oceans.  Prairie grasses and wheat wave in the wind like waves of water.  Traffic jams are usually ranchers moving their herd from low range to high summer pastures.

Until then…………………………..

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