by Nick Andrea
Driving through the back roads of my teenage stomping grounds,
old stone houses stand on beautiful estates of lush greenery and brilliant flora bearing the mark of an intelligence that cares for the history and well being of this land.
Returning to an old community old friends reappear sharing good cheer and conversation like we haven’t skipped a beat since the day I left.
Jumping on the trampoline with a giggly 2-year old I see the ancient blue sky with the eyes of simplicity, and it utters words of timelessness to me.
I’m home again and it turns out this place is a little slice of Heaven, too. I must have missed that all those years ago.