Nostalgia
I've been gone from New York State for almost nineteen years, but sometimes, at the strangest moments, I miss my home. Though I was anxious to leave and knew in my mid-teens that I liked the western part of our country, I find that I think of home and wish for it more as I get older. I miss the lush greenery of the Adirondacks in the summertime, when simply stepping outside is an experience that awakens the senses. I can smell the pine trees and feel the warm humidity on my skin, and I wish for it even though I know I don't like it. I miss the peaceful serenity of my childhood home. The porch wasn't screened in when I was home; I'd like to go back and sit there, on my Nanna's old wicker furniture, with a good book and a cold drink. I miss the beautiful, plentiful lakes, rivers, and streams, surrounded by evergreens. There is nothing similar on the high plains of Colorado! And for some reason, as I get old...
