Antiquity

sav (i)

I was born in the heart of the country, a place where time seemed to stop and memories were cherished. I spent my childhood mapping the land the way my father had mapped my mother the day of their marriage. Every blade of grass was a smooth pore, every stone a freckle, every brook an old scar, and I loved them all endlessly. My brothers thought I was crazy for the way I went about my life. "You can't love the land the way you would a person," they ridiculed me. And although it was never a controversial topic, I was indeed crazy, the fact is, you can love the land the way you would a person. Every crevice was something my fingers longed to commit to memory, I wanted to burn every field of penstemon into my mind. This wasn't because I was crazy. I was filled with such a longing to be a part of something that was so infinite, that was so fortified, so sure. And the only way I knew how to do that was by committing every speck of dirt to my mind, every sky blue Robin's egg, and every dithering hill. The reason is, we are all going to recede from this life, and the only thing that will be left is the land. It is satirical, really. We spend our whole lives forming bonds in hopes that they will never end, but they turn to dust when everything is all said and done. The land is the only thing I am sure of due to its perpetual consistency, and that is why I fell in love with it. For every brook, stone, blade of grass... It will stand longer than any human vow.