Wide open spaces speak to me. A few years ago when we moved to Texas, I was so excited for the Texas I imagined-huge yards, cowboy hats and horses. Only it didn't end up that way, Katy was urban sprawl on concrete. Ginormous houses on postage stamp sized lots and strip malls lining the congested streets. I used to take a round about way to the library through back roads because it led me through emptiness. The view wasn't spectacular, just wide open spaces with overgrown grass, and the occasional barbed wire, but it helped me breathe.
Now, home in Colorado, just beyond my house lies a trail that winds through trees, alongside fields, and over the creek. I can see the mountains in the distance, and a few days ago, baby cows with their mothers in the pasture next to me. Roscoe occasionally startles a rabbit and they quickly high tail it out of his lumbering reach. At night we can hear the coyotes calling and sometimes the low mooing of cows. It smells like earth, and grass, and freedom.
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