Saturday, August 18, 2012

Summer's End


The other night on the drive home from where I grew up we stopped in the middle of an old dirt road, shut off the car, got out and looked up at the sky. To the northern horizon there was a long, light-green arch of northern lights, the Milky Way spanned the sky and the stars were crisp and bright on the approach of a new moon. As the wind blew through the tall grass and un-swathed fields, I felt alive.  

This is such a great time of year – the end of summer/approach of autumn. Visiting friends and family. Eating wonderful seasonal foods. Hearing a million crickets on a lazy, breezy afternoon with the hum of combines in the distance. Seeing your first flight of geese. Watching the leaves slowly fade. All these things make me feel alive too – not to mention nostalgic.

Recently I spent the afternoon walking around the Luky homestead where I spent most of my childhood and where most of my fondest memories are. The once immaculate yard is now overgrown with grass, weeds and trees sprouting up everywhere. The big, old trees are dying and broken all over the property with deteriorated buildings. Come October, she will have been gone for six years. I thought about how the soul of the place seemed to leave once she did. It broke my heart finally realizing that what my memory has left me will never return again. Since that afternoon, amidst my chaos of memories, feelings and nostalgia, I’ve been struggling with the idea of choosing what to hold on to and knowing what to let go of – in all aspects of my life.

As the fields come off while the days get shorter and the nights get cooler, I’ve been reflecting on this past year as it’s winding down. Much change, growth and renewal has put me in an interesting place internally… I feel alive.

The next few weeks are filled with music across the wide-open prairies. I hope to see you and yours sometime soon! Here is a lovely poster that Kristen Berkel did for the upcoming tour – Thank you Kristen! Take care everyone and hope to see or hear from you soon.




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© Kayla Luky