Among green prairies, emerald colored hills, thickly wooded canyons, rugged wilderness, and blistered soil and everything looks ocher color painted, there, exists the warmth of rich cultured people. Where the water descends from the clustered mountain range and flows through their harvest fields, there can be seen the industrious people of my home, welcoming and convivial. As I travel through the long forgotten road towards my ancestral home, there lies an elegant scenery like a beautiful tapestry of distinct tones, the endless grazing lands of grain, oats, alfalfa and soy. So well sowed and tended that the lively cornfields resemble a perfect formation of soldiers with golden-feathered helmets. The bright colored apple orchards create a rich and luscious reap to our distinctive land. Dry air swirls among the bright green mountain range, where wild animals run free.
The way to my grandparent's home, although rough and strenuous, is a path of childhood memories. The exquisite scenery begins to change. The bright colors begin to fade, almost making one wonder if you are still in the same place. The road is rutted and uneven but yet the excitement inside me does not weaken; The excitement of being back home, living once again in the pure freedom of nature, and the cultural surrounding of our family home. The space, where as a family we began to grow, is a warmhearted home, placed in the center of a rural town.
The welcoming space may not be a paradise but rather a very distinct place from its surrounding area. Having a very diverse climate change footprints and shadows of a turbulent climate are left on the land. Traces of grueling times pass by my mind. Suddenly, I realize the necessity, simplicity, and poverty of this humble people of us. It makes me wonder if my ignorance as a child made me blind to these people's truths. Difficult times are experienced with the lack of water in this particular place.