If there were only one thing I could share with you about my life here, I would share the wind as it flows across the rice paddy at night. I would share the way the stalks, growing heavier and more golden with each day that passes, bend and ripple at the lightest touch of a breeze. I would share the low rustle and the fresh soft smell that reaches through my living room window.
As I walked home the other night, I passed a rice paddy just as the breeze picked up. For an instant I thought, "it smells like home."
Though I come from the Heartland and have always lived in vast, flat countries crisscrossed by fields, it is only now, halfway round the globe in a land of mountains and earthquakes, that I truly appreciate the beauty in amber waves of grain.
Shinkansen Day! (Oh, and White Day I guess)
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Well, it’s nearly that time. Two days to go! I mean we’ve been waiting for
so long and finally, finally it’s here. No, I’m actually not talking about
the S...
9 years ago
1 comment:
Your Grandpa Halbur would be pleased to hear of your appreciation of golden grain fields.
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