I Am From

I am from the wide open spaces and rolling hills of the northern grasslands. Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, tumbleweeds, smoke plants, cicadas and wind. Vast nothingness, filling my soul with spirit.
I am from the green valleys and cool waters of Wisconsin. The house in the woods. The cities of endless parks.
I am from big kitchens and hours spent canning. Hundreds of jars of red, gold, green and pink.
From big gardens and herb beds.
From push mowing lawns and cutting wood by hand.
I am from long bike rides, and longer days spent in the woods. Pine scents and piles of leaves.
I am from childhood companions with big hearts and impish fun. From stickers and hair ties, freckles and skates. Arms held out to catch to me. Competition.
I am from big tents, smoky fires, floating in the rain, carving names in the rocks, football games, broken bones.
Growing up unaware…
I am from a great grandmother I barely knew, who everyone says I’m just like. Kilpatrick bloodline, always cold, rather forgetful.
I am from songs on repeat, nighttime runs gathering strength from the stars.
I am from hidden reading cubbies, and dusty libraries.
From skinny girl arms, too big clothes, and clutz of the year awards.
I am from big daydreams, fairy worlds, and even bigger plans.
Summers in Colorado with cousins and mountains, rivers and reunions.
I am from frigid winters, frostbitten toes, crunchy snow. Sledding and flying, snowballs and snowmen.
From long talks, giggles, and secrets.
I am from contentment.

Inspired by Sarah at Emerging Mummy