Midwest Living Soothes the Soul
I don’t know about you, but I would rather live in the Midwest than anywhere in the world. That may sound provincial, but so be it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the beauty of other areas of the country. The awesomeness of the Rockies leaves me speechless. The mystery of the desert fills me with wonder. Sitting on the beach while the waves beat the pulse of the universe gives me just the tiniest of peeks into my place in it all. I love to travel to different locales.
Wherever I go I bring something back, not just in my suitcase, but souvenirs of the soul. But I bring them home. That is what the Midwest is — more specifically this little corner of central Illinois. There is a rhythm to life here lacking in other areas. I’m sure, like me, you have thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of Summer—the hot, humid days that bring us lemonade, watermelon and swimming pools; the rainbow colors of flowers; and the succulent bounty of the garden. I loved every minute—up until about the last three weeks. Then it starts to be time to be over—I’m ready for a change.
My heart begins to yearn for cool, crisp days and that kodachromic brilliance of the sky only autumn can display. I also know, by the time I experience my share of hikes over crunching leaves, bonfires, hot dogs, marshmallows, and football, my seasonal vagabond heart will begin to yearn for snow, cozy sweaters, books and holidays.
The miracle is I also know the time will come during Winter when I believe I will not survive another day without warm sunshine. And voila! That is almost exactly the moment the first crocus peaks through. Springtime and rebirth are once again mine!
I love this rhythm. I take it as a personal affront when we have a January thaw or a cool July. I feel cheated somehow. I was once trapped in Summer for three years. It was an awful feeling for a Midwesterner. I tried to fly back frequently, and would cry as I felt the feel of the season envelope me upon my arrival at O’Hare. When I came home to stay, I brought with me an appreciation of the seasons that has never left me. I anticipate each one with a heart that seems magnetized to it. Each one fills me with something unique.
I try to give my clients this appreciation of nature and its amazing healing balm. If we’re soothed by a soft breeze on our cheek, a bird’s welcoming song, or a quiet walk in the woods, we can survive anything dealt us. No one can take away the first cardinal, the lushness of Summer, the majesty of the wind or the whisper of falling snow. It is ours, a special gift—a reminder of the rhythm of our own lives—the secret of the Midwest. TPW
Wherever I go I bring something back, not just in my suitcase, but souvenirs of the soul. But I bring them home. That is what the Midwest is — more specifically this little corner of central Illinois. There is a rhythm to life here lacking in other areas. I’m sure, like me, you have thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of Summer—the hot, humid days that bring us lemonade, watermelon and swimming pools; the rainbow colors of flowers; and the succulent bounty of the garden. I loved every minute—up until about the last three weeks. Then it starts to be time to be over—I’m ready for a change.
My heart begins to yearn for cool, crisp days and that kodachromic brilliance of the sky only autumn can display. I also know, by the time I experience my share of hikes over crunching leaves, bonfires, hot dogs, marshmallows, and football, my seasonal vagabond heart will begin to yearn for snow, cozy sweaters, books and holidays.
The miracle is I also know the time will come during Winter when I believe I will not survive another day without warm sunshine. And voila! That is almost exactly the moment the first crocus peaks through. Springtime and rebirth are once again mine!
I love this rhythm. I take it as a personal affront when we have a January thaw or a cool July. I feel cheated somehow. I was once trapped in Summer for three years. It was an awful feeling for a Midwesterner. I tried to fly back frequently, and would cry as I felt the feel of the season envelope me upon my arrival at O’Hare. When I came home to stay, I brought with me an appreciation of the seasons that has never left me. I anticipate each one with a heart that seems magnetized to it. Each one fills me with something unique.
I try to give my clients this appreciation of nature and its amazing healing balm. If we’re soothed by a soft breeze on our cheek, a bird’s welcoming song, or a quiet walk in the woods, we can survive anything dealt us. No one can take away the first cardinal, the lushness of Summer, the majesty of the wind or the whisper of falling snow. It is ours, a special gift—a reminder of the rhythm of our own lives—the secret of the Midwest. TPW