The Place I Search For

Do you ever see something – a vista, a sunrise, a meadow – and feel like it’s hinting at something more? Do you ever feel the sunlight, or hear the water in the stream, and pause to listen with your whole being because there’s something else in that sound and you don’t want to miss it? Do you ever read a book, or listen to a song, and imagine a place that feels like home even though you have no idea how to find it?

I do. I see it in the world around me, in the sunlight on the leaves and the mountain flowers waving in the breeze. I hear it in the water and the bird’s song. I feel it in that first breeze that hints at spring and soft earth and growing things after too many months of cold and sleep. I know it…and yet I don’t.

Never have I found this place that I imagine. Never have I stood in awe of it’s beauty, feeling like I’ve come home to a place I’ve never been. Never have I experienced the seasons as I imagine they truly should be, the seasons as I dream and write them.

Still, I search. Still, I listen and watch. I wait for the time when I find this place, or it finds me. I dream and paint and write of its beauty and peace. I reread the stories, I re-watch the movies, I listen to the songs for the one-thousandth time. And always I search…

…I’m ready for Spring, guys. I’m ready to be out in the mountains with the soft grass and warm sun, with the fresh air that’s just a hint away from being too cold for short sleeves and feels like pure adventure kissing my skin. And as always, that longing brings to mind the places I want to find, and the dramatic artist in me that will always express herself in words like the ones above…my full-hearted attempts to give names to these wild feelings that flood by being.

I hope your year is wonderful so far. If your Spring is coming, don’t forget to enjoy it…and would you mind sharing a piece with me?

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