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Driving home from Alica’s

December 24, 2007

I am driving home through the snow as the wind sweeps across the empty cornfields.  It’s a haunting scene, almost, desolate and yet comforting.  This long straight country road leads from the house of a friend to my home town, and therefore is all my own place.  The corn is gone from the fields around me, leaving behind the empty stalks, reminders of the growth of the past and the future at the same time.
It wasn’t like this earlier.  I was home with friends and their friends.  The house was loud and full, though I didn’t understand all of it.  We danced in the flurries and played children’s camp games.  We drank hot chocolate, and then piled on top of each other on the couch to hang out.  They were wonderful, though confusing.  I don’t understand them, almost to the degree of not agreeing with them.  No that’s not right.  Almost to the degree of disliking them for their opinions.  It was, however, one of those free moments, where you simply do what you feel and act absurd, however self-conscious that freedom was.
Before that I was with my mom.  We baked cookies, and shopped.  Yesterday we wrapped presents, and we’ve had some time to just sit and be together.  Now, however, I’m pulling into town.  While it was a bare inch of snow out in the country, here where the wind is less it’s deeper and covers the road well.  The streets are empty and yet I know them so well that there is no fear.  I fishtail purposefully as I drive by the high school, and remember walking out to my car late after chem nite and listening to the snow fall.  Finally I pull into my own driveway and lock the garage door.  I’ve got one thing left to do before I go inside.  It isn’t winter, after all, until you’ve made a snow angel.

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