Every year we venture out to Nowhere, Idaho for a weekend holiday. My kids love it and say things like suburb-raised kids tend to say (I think?). Things like, "I smell nature!" and "I wonder if we'll see any macaws out here." We don't live near trees, unless you count the apple and cherry orchards. The smell of the pines and the peaceful lakes are a pleasure to the senses. It's quite opposite to our dry, but oddly beautiful, open landscape. Tumbleweeds anyone?
My Peace Officer relaxes out in the boonies. Nature is his first love. He golfs, swims like a fish, takes us fishing, and tries his best to coax us into hiking the trails. It's sweet. It's really sweet. He's so sweet.
I am not a nature girl. Just as the sight of the tree laden mountains take my breath away, so does the size of the Idaho ants. I sit on the balcony of our condo trying to find a balance in the solace as I embroider my nine year old's drawings onto tea towels and desperately search for cell service. The bugs keep flying into my hair. Nature.
My kids dress in their swimsuits before breakfast and wait impatiently for Bill to make eggs and bacon and for me to tidy up. They swim the day away.
Every year we venture here and every year we make beautiful memories.
