There are places I'll remember,

All my life, though some have changed
some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I can still recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all.


I make my list over and over in my head, always repeating the same few, while adding and removing some others.  Reasons why, I don't know.  6 places.... I laugh to myself.  I think anatomical?  Geographical?  Local, Far away, the daily grind places.  Then I tell myself it doesn't matter.  Just stop thinking and write em down.

1.  My back.  I love my back.  We all have things we don't like about our appearance.  Sometimes we're hard pressed to state something we love about our outward appearance.  But I do, love my back.  I like the way it looks, long muscular (in a girlie way) and the way it curves right in the places it's supposed to.  It's tan, there are freckles than dot my shoulders.  My shoulders are wide and my upper back broad compared to my tiny frame.  But not too wide, just enough for carrying, working and of course swimming.

2.  The ocean of south Florida.  My beach here.  My home, my space, my peace, my church, refuge.  It is holy and sacred.  The color of the water goes beyond my ability to describe, only to say close your eyes and imagine every blue and green in the spectrum and more... that is the  water.  It changes in a moment.  Even when rough and angry, she is still beautiful and it seems that during those times is when she vomits up the most beautiful of her gifts.  She is unpredictable, dangerous, calm and she can take your life, while at the same time giving it.

3.  Marilla, New York  the tiny no town, place I was born.  On a farm in a very rural area in western New York State.  Outside of Buffalo.  I grew up steeped in my eastern european culture, where people still farmed with horses.  My first 4 years of school I went to a 4 room school house.  We all pretty much dressed the same, ate similar foods and there was a certain standard of ethic there.  There was also a tremendous amount of fun, laughter and love.  There is nothing so sweet as getting squirted in the face by your Grandpa milking a cow, telling you to get busy.  I love that place.  When my parents uprooted me from there, part of my world crashed.

4.  Austin, Texas-  I find it ironic we all have links to Texas.  How weird is that?  It really struck me after reading Beth's post, not knowing she too had lived there.  I went to Baylor.  There I developed a love of a lot of places in Eastern Tx.  But I love Austin, the food, Zilker Park, the river, it was always so clean to me.  It was "the" place we went to to get away.  Not to Padre, not to my room mates Moms to crash for the weekend.... No, Austin was more adult like to us. I can't explain it any better than that.  Second on that list is San Antonio... another town I love, learned to love.... having spent time there too.

5.  Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  Hell the whole state, throw Montana in there too.  My first experience at the beauty of fly fishing and real mountains... that weren't in Colorado.  Jackson has a different swing.  The elevation is mood altering, you never get tired and never want to sleep.  And you can get a hell of a sun burn there.  While it has more than it's share of tourism, I have met some of the nicest people there in the world.  The locals are earthy, friendly and welcoming. The water temperature is bone numbing and not one day goes by you don't have to hit the brakes to let some other worldly creature cross the road.  People there love that place and it is treated with love and care.  My heart did a great deal of healing there after Gary died.  It is and always will be one of my favorite places ever.

6.  I want to say here, my home, that's a given though.  Virginia...  I love Williamsburg, Beth lives close by.  I almost went to William and Mary (sometimes I still wish I had).  Fred-burg, the best coffee shop and sweet roll place in the world.  A  drug store that still has a lunch counter, you can get cream cheese and olive sandwiches on homemade bread and a real ice cream float or milkshake.  You can walk.  It's historic.  The churches are amazing and again, the people are so very different.  And then, there is the family farm outside Culpeper.... a place I love so much.... my tree, my room, my horse.  The creek, old quilts to lay under the tree and sleep.  Homemade ice cream and biscuits with real honey from the man down in town.  Agnes, the 80 something girdle wearing, whiskey sipping bridge playing friend of dead man walkings Mom.  A legend in her own right.... you don't need a snowblower when Agnes comes to the house... she plows her own path, refuses to use the shoveled sidewalk up to the door and needs some tea (always served with a shot glass) to warm up, while she stands in the foyer shaking the snow out of her undergarments... mumbling under her breath, while we are stand and laugh.  Gentile.... not a chance. The illusion of maybe... but I wouldn't mess with her.

Those are my places, as they stand at this moment.  In a half  hour I could change my mind.  There are so many places that mean something to me, something more than just a place to visit or where a friend lives or a vacation was had.  The list is too long.... and yeah, while I still grossly dislike northern Florida, my heart still aches for our farm there and my husband, our animals and our way of life.  But I am not an inlander, and this is my home.  The water.  I spent my life here, after my parents yanked me from the security of where I was born.  My mother said to me once, we are water people.  Indeed I am.