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emain much more subject to things like economic instability.
Though I’ve inherited that quality to care very little for today’s
politics, art, and technology, I am much more connected to these
things than I find comfortable. It is the sense of a loss of
something that I never had that runs deep in me. The land under
the western sky leaves me with a sense that I belong to it, though
I’ve never quite figured out how. I do know that I miss the stars
when I’m in the big city. I miss the sunsets over the cotton fields.
I miss the smell of a storm a hundred miles away and watching it
roll across the flat plains.
There’s a rhythm to it all—a feeling that it is as it should be.
Maybe, here in this kitchen, it is that feeling that I miss most of
all.
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