I hit the road at 6am and drove through gray overcast skies, green plains, and empty highways. It was gorgeous, glorious, even. I could probably drive these roads with my eyes closed. Every turn, every bump, feels the same.
Before I got home, I stopped and took this picture at the end of my street.
There’s so much nostalgia down this one long road.
So much of my childhood is strung down these ditches and hidden in the wild honeysuckle. The crawdads still creep and the vines still twist and overgrow. Teenage dreams still heat the pavement and I remember when I laid my heart on the line here. I remember when I wrecked my car here. The trees have grown taller and the road is as long as it’s always been.
The long road home to who I am.