Westward

There is just something, a regenerative power, that I derive when I cross the Mississippi and head back home again.  Is it the flat delta or just the sign?  Is it just knowing that I am closer to my kin or that I can avoid the car for awhile?  The opportunity to rest in my own bed perhaps?  Maybe just the simple daily routine beckons me back?  The opportunity to gather my thoughts and put it in a painting?  Well, whatever the reason I can say the height of the Mississippi River made me forget all those things and just stare in amazement.  WOW the river was high!  And the Arkansas River has seen record flooding.  And my family have seen their rivers rise and flood as well.  And since we have returned home it has done nothing but rain, rain, rain.  Depressing.  Back to my brushes.
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"Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man's growth without destroying his roots." - Frank A. Clark

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