sometimes i don’t identify at all with growing up in alberta.
the reputation it has with country music, the stampede, the small towns and pick-up trucks…it’s notorious cow country. and i didn’t even grow up in the heart of it. i grew up in the ‘burbs with all the houses perfectly aligned and school busses plodding on the fresh neighborhood streets, so it wasn’t exactly deep texas.
but still, it’s alberta.
even so. there are times, when i’m not there, that i catch myself longing for all of that even though it’s something i never really experienced.
i do something like watch the “crazy heart” trailer ten times over and lay staring up at the ceiling dreaming dreams of windy wheat fields and big, big skies. and i long for the prairies.
because i like the idea of aged whisky and guitar plucking and worn out wooden porches and eternal stretches of road to drive a truck that smells of saw dust. i like the idea of a marked-up map resting on the dash, the color worn off from the sun, the number of the barber shop scrawled on the corner.
i like the idea of a beautiful sense of quiet ever so often interrupted by crickets or the crack of a patio door or boots climbing the front steps.
i like the idea of sitting on a bar stool late at night and listening to songs played by a gruff voice, a voice nearly choked by life and has nothing else to do but sing about it.
i like the idea of fishing all day in a little paddle boat on a lake where the trees are constantly looking at their reflections.
i like the idea of being with a good man who would know how to build a porch swing and has calloused hands and would make coffee and clang around in the kitchen while he tells me stories.
i like these ideas. and maybe someday i’ll live them out just as i imagine them in my head.