It was nothing more than a Southern dirt road that led nowhere, yet everywhere. I guess it depended on what you were looking for, or willing to see. I thought I was the only one looking – noticing – until I heard snaps and clicks behind me and realized that Logan was taking pictures of hills and fields and barns and yes, even goats, with his iPod. That made me smile. He saw it too.
As the countryside streamed by my window I put a house, a barn, a garden, where I thought they should be, would be if it were mine. Every country mile we passed was a new canvas painted pretty with my dreams.
The nomadic life of a soldier keeps things like farms, livestock, and permanent roots just out of realistic grasp, but never out of dreams reach.