Indiana: It Is Here


ErtelRoadSuddenly I am there. My end destination lies less than a mile ahead, but this is the piece that will take me there, the piece that has gotten me this far. Without anxiety I move forward. Each movement welling a memory within me. Each passed feature cherished as an old friend.

It is here that I existed among the simplest and yet most profound. It is here that day after day my legs carried me into a world of awe and wonder. It is here that I occasionally hit the ground running, but more often walked slowly.

It is here that I witnessed butterflies alight on morning glories and spiders spin amidst morning dew. It is a here that I heard birds sing a song ever new. It is here that I paused to point out passing caterpillars to the wide-eyed child as we strolled along. It is here that I recognized wonder in eyes so new.

This is where the smallest of insects preformed an orchestrated harmony for an audience of one. This is where I called aloud to the maker of the heavens. This is where I viewed skies of purest blue and clouds of fullest white, sunsets and rises that stopped my feet and fixed my gaze. This is where I witnessed the marvel of seed to stalk, the effects of the sun, the rain, and the shade. This is were the elements coaxed the seed to harvest and my skin to weathered brown. This is where I acknowledged change, from green to red, orange, and yellow, from living to falling slowly down.

It is here that the noise of the world passed only once in a while. It is here that the yearning for silence brought me, where silence communicated the meaning of sound. It is here that I heard the sound of the cricket and acknowledged its unparalleled existence in the world. It is here that I realized that the cry of the cricket paralleled the cry of so much more. It is here that I reflected, with awe and wonder, on the importance of the individual. It is here that I delighted in the existence of humanity.

This is where I came to terms with my state of life; my dreams, my passions, my desires. This is where I begged my heart to let him go. This is where the cracks in the pavement coursed through until tended to and sealed back together. This is where the cracking and sealing, a part of the seasonal routine, made striking resemblance to the condition of my heart. This is where clarity broke me to build up something new.
This is the way I took, driving down and away, when I decided to find rest in an unrestful way. This is the place I left when I didn’t know that to truly come I would have to go.

It is a place that gained my trust and then slowly revealed its beauty. It is a place that repeatedly shook me anew, and continues to shake me. It is a place that beckoned me; be attentive to the smallest of creation.
A welcome site to a weary wanderer. A road I claim as my own. 750 E, Indiana. I am home.

About the Author: Growing up in rural Indiana, Elizabeth longed to explore the “outside world.” As a college student she had the opportunity to study and travel throughout Europe, an experience which opened her eyes to the joys of diversity. As Elizabeth traveled, she was struck with a sense of awe and wonder for the people and places she encountered. Upon returning home she was struck once again.

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