There is a sleepy little town in Texas. One which I refer to as home. One of the many homes of my childhood. Where coyotes howl at night, children play, time slows down and music of yesteryear fills the historic downtown. There are chocolate shops and western wear stores.
It’s very quiet in this little haven. So quiet, in fact, that you can actually hear yourself think. Think about life. Family. Children. The past. The future. And everything in between.
We drink Dr. Pepper made from actual sugar cane. We ride on Paw Paw’s tractor. And we are drawn to the scrap metal pile like magnets.
We sit on the front porch and watch the sun come up. We also watch the sun go down. We notice the little things, things that time has almost forgotten.
We talk about the family home that was built in the 1800’s. The beautiful vintage wallpaper that was covered with wood paneling long ago. The hardwood floors that are hidden under the carpet. The once two room house, now consisting of eight.
It’s good to go home.
Great shots, girl! Thanks for sharing your special place with us… Your photos are so nice…
