Ohio in July

I can't believe that it's been nearly a year since I started this blog. It's strange how things can change in 12 months' time. Last July I was taking summer classes, working two jobs, and traveling in Spain, teaching English at a kid's summer camp. This July I'm preparing to move my life to another continent. Again.

Last night I rode with my dad on his motorcycle. It was a beautiful night for a ride- the wind was a nice break from the hot, muggy weather and as we rode home the sun was starting to set. The sky was clear, the moon was full, and the goodness of summertime in the country washed over me.

You know that smell- a wheat field, golden and ready to harvest, reflecting back some of the sun's rays that it's been collecting all day. Wholesome and natural and good. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.

You know that sound- the cicadas, industriously trilling out their love songs, for better or for worse. The growl of farm equipment and lawn mowers and weed-wackers; the rough melody our love/hate relationship with the earth.

You know the taste- fresh sweet corn and brats on the grill; and be sure to save room for a turtle sundae from the Dairy Haus for dessert.

Soon I will be gone again- off to a new kind of beauty, trading green fields for snow-capped mountains and brats for guinea pig (a specialty in Ecuador, apparently). But while I'm still here I'm trying to store it up. Breathe in an extra dose of all that is beautiful here. Store it deep down inside and pull out again later. On a day when the city is too loud and the language is too hard and my students are too draining. I'll go home, close my door and let the silence take me back here, to the smells, the sounds, the tastes. To Ohio in July.