Lost and Angry

Every time I get away from the city, I take a risk.  I risk overwhelming sensations of longing for a life close to the land.  It’s cliché, but it’s real.  I want so badly to feel connected to the earth, the sky, the hard-scrabble life among scrub oak springing impossibly from weathered rock.

That’s it.  There’s nothing romantic, nor real, about it.  It’s simply an aching sense that I’ve never been where I should be.  Later, when I realize it’s an impossible dream, it’s an opportunity to feel lost and angry.


About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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One Response to Lost and Angry

  1. robin andrea says:

    I understand that longing. It’s why I bought my first piece of land when I was 20 years old. Ten acres in southern Oregon. Of course, I was much too young and naive to “live off the land”– so sold it a year later. But the longing never left, and when given another chance, took it.

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