I’m here at my little sister’s house in the big city.
It’s really a small town, but in the village we used to talk about it like it was LA or NYC. The way to instant popularity, when I was a kid, was to have a friend in the big city. We would play “how many people do you know in the big city,” “how many friends do you have in the big city,” etc. I always counted all the dogs I knew.
The first time we came here I freaked out about riding in a car (I’m sure I’d been in one before, I just didn’t remember it). We were moving really really fast, and my dad grabbed me and said, “Tara! Tara, don’t worry, we aren’t moving, the trees and everything else are moving.” I looked up and saw the trees zooming by at 50 mph and I think I had my first panic attack.
Yeah, those were the days.
Last night I slept next to a huge field of cranes and geese. I stayed up making pretty sounds with the dulcimer until about four when they all started coo-ing and honking and cawing. Then I walked out and sat in the field watching them do their morning dance.