By Brenda Black
Show me vivid green pastures dotted
with black cattle. Show me white pines and giant oaks stately
guarding Ozark hills. Show me rivers glistening and rambling. Show me
flooded rice fields dancing on flat bottom land. From west to east,
the scenery changes in the Show Me state, offering diversity that is
broad and beautiful, one side to the other.
I took the ten-hour round trip tour a
couple of weekends ago from Clinton to Sikeston, and home again. The
hubs and I criss-crossed 12 counties, marveling at their differences.
Though Mark Twain hailed from the opposite corner of the state, his
namesake forest across the south central region offered scenic
tranquility for part of the journey. The deep, dark, seemingly
endless rows of trees surely would have inspired the story teller
with as many back wood mysteries as the Mighty Mo river provided a
backdrop for the folklore he made famous. And that's the beauty of
this great state. Her cultural differences, various industry and
natural characteristics run wide and deep, worthy of notice.
I often ponder on such road trips
about the outcome of life had I lived just a few hours one way or
another from where I call home. How much would the opportunities have
changed; how would my world look differently? Would I still have gone
to college or met the man I married? We spot pretty homesteads along
the route and ask one another from time to time, "How would you
like to live there?" We dream for a bit and venture the
scenario, then always come up with the same answer.
"No, I think
I'll stay where I am."
There's no place like home. Though I
must admit, I am tempted to transplant a few of those gorgeous tall
evergreens and borrow a cool, clear stream for personal landscaping.
A sprawling ranch with board fences and pristine paddocks, absent of
ragweed, looks inviting. I'd like the deep, rich soil for our
pastures and garden and some of those mountainous slopes for winter
sledding. But, home is home and it always feels good to come back
where the roots run deep and the surroundings are familiar.
Sometimes it takes a jaunt just a few
hours away to rekindle an appreciation for the place where God
planted us. It's nice to see the diversity; fun to enjoy some new
scenery. But in the end, when the forest faded away and the sunset
came into view, west and ahead, it felt right; it felt good. With
some unseen, emotional magnetic force, home keeps pulling us back to
the life and the folks we love and the history we've created.
From one side to the other, our state
is spectacular and it's people memorable. Still, from one side to the
other, home is preferable, and I'm glad each time I get there.
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