Friday, October 25, 2002
Feeling like it's a quiet day. Or should be but co-workers are a little on the rowdy side. I don't feel like joining in the pleasantries. It's an anti-social day. No real reason except it's a beautiful wintery day. With freezing rain coming down from an overcast sky. You can see your breath freeze in the air as you exhale. And when you inhale, you can feel the cold seeping into your lungs and spread to your body. Still, for some reason I love these days. It seems the perfect opportunity to curl up on the front porch in a sleeping bad, reading a great book and holding a cup of hot chocolate to warm your hands. Call me crazy, but I love feeling the crisp quality and smelling the temperature of the air.
Ahhh Wisconsin. And yet I still miss Colorado. After 5 years, I wish to return, even if just for a visit. I miss the strong, warm winds. The open sky. I miss the hint of mountain shadows on the distant horizon. I miss Timberlake, where we would hunt geese and ducks. John Martin Reservoir where we would swim, jumping off the cliff. And Vogal Canyon where there was alway the threat of rattlesnakes, but the lure of ancient Indian painting was stronger. I miss the tree in our neighbors backyard where we would hide out from parents, siblings and the world. I miss walking to Loaf n' Jug at night with my friends, thinking we were the coolest girls in all the world. I even miss the decorative and wild yucca plants stabbing into my skin.
If I ever did go back to La Junta, I'd like to ride my bike around. Start from the south, near the pool with the big slide and baseball/softball fields where I learned to play and make my way thru the town. Ride downtown, visiting Six Star which we always made fun of and the Fox Theatre where I saw so many movies. Then go on to the Middle School I attended for only 1 year the way it stands now. And then move on to the City Park, one of the only green spots in town. After that it would be up the hill to the High School and the view of the city from the top. I'd go down the back side, a short cut to East Elementary School. I would prolly stop to play on the playground equipment where so much gossip was spread. Then it would be time to go across the bridge spaning the train yard and muddy Arkansas River. Past Loaf n' Jug and on to my old house on Elm St. There I would stand and look. Examining where my house used to be. Trying to find some hint that I grew up in a white house with a red roof that used to stand right here. However, there is nothing left except for a crumbly foundation, stained with water marks.
However, I know that if I did go back to La Junta, I wouldn't feel the nostalgia everyone romanticises. Just bitter dissapointment from an unhappy childhood.
Ahhh Wisconsin. And yet I still miss Colorado. After 5 years, I wish to return, even if just for a visit. I miss the strong, warm winds. The open sky. I miss the hint of mountain shadows on the distant horizon. I miss Timberlake, where we would hunt geese and ducks. John Martin Reservoir where we would swim, jumping off the cliff. And Vogal Canyon where there was alway the threat of rattlesnakes, but the lure of ancient Indian painting was stronger. I miss the tree in our neighbors backyard where we would hide out from parents, siblings and the world. I miss walking to Loaf n' Jug at night with my friends, thinking we were the coolest girls in all the world. I even miss the decorative and wild yucca plants stabbing into my skin.
If I ever did go back to La Junta, I'd like to ride my bike around. Start from the south, near the pool with the big slide and baseball/softball fields where I learned to play and make my way thru the town. Ride downtown, visiting Six Star which we always made fun of and the Fox Theatre where I saw so many movies. Then go on to the Middle School I attended for only 1 year the way it stands now. And then move on to the City Park, one of the only green spots in town. After that it would be up the hill to the High School and the view of the city from the top. I'd go down the back side, a short cut to East Elementary School. I would prolly stop to play on the playground equipment where so much gossip was spread. Then it would be time to go across the bridge spaning the train yard and muddy Arkansas River. Past Loaf n' Jug and on to my old house on Elm St. There I would stand and look. Examining where my house used to be. Trying to find some hint that I grew up in a white house with a red roof that used to stand right here. However, there is nothing left except for a crumbly foundation, stained with water marks.
However, I know that if I did go back to La Junta, I wouldn't feel the nostalgia everyone romanticises. Just bitter dissapointment from an unhappy childhood.
