One of the best things about being a Chicks with Ticks is getting away from it all… venturing into the depths of a pristine forest, following the bends of a small meandering stream, feeling so remote you think there is no way anyone has ever laid eyes on this seemingly untouched spot, except perhaps some early Florida inhabitants. It is that feeling of being connected not only to the land, but also to a time long past. A time when people lived off the land. A time before constant stimulus and connectivity, when you could just… be…
When I can’t be physically connected to the land, I find myself getting lost in novels depicting early life 
in Florida to fill that void. Novels like “A Land Remembered” (mine and Jacque’s all-time favorite book) or “The Yearling” (which I am currently reading). Or visiting old towns such as Micanopy or Cross Creek, where I can grab a bite at The Yearling Restaurant on my way home (sort of) from Jacksonville. Or taking the backroads, even though they take longer than the highway. Anything to just get away from it all and see or imagine something beautiful.
Yet I live in the city. And I work the majority of my days in an office. I enjoy these things, for the most 
part, but you can tell when I’ve been away from where I truly feel free, alive, happy for too long. Or when I’ve gotten a small taste of that place, but not enough, and I’m left just yearning for more. It’s painful. I asked Jacque why it is I feel such a longing and am so deeply affected, and she said very simply, “It’s because we are from another time.” It made me cry, because I knew it was true, and I sometimes can’t help but feel that I don’t belong.
Sometimes I feel the same way, it is nice that someone put it into words (i’m not alone in this craziness).
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Absolutely me! Things are so commercial, so fast now…kids think clothes comes from WalMart and have no idea that the flour used in the kitchen was once a beautiful stalk of wheat in a rolling field and they cannot imagine a time when clothes were hand stitched, veggies were grown in fields behind homes and the bumper crops were preserved in jars in the kitchen over a wood burning stove…I feel I am from that other time as well…good to know I’m not alone and to know that others appreciate the lost arts of our ancestors and the “was before” descriptions can be thought of fondly!
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How wonderful to be able to do that. From my house, I can see the mountains, but it is actually far from my place, yet I yearn to be able to climb it again. There is always a sense of wonder and awe when you are communing with nature. Far better than going to the malls (which I seldom do) where most people often converge.
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You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the “country” out of the girl. I feel this way often, missing the mountains of the Pacific Northwest where I was born. It is a part of your soul, just something you were born with – I’m glad you’re able to get away from the concrete jungle and get back to the wild places at least sometimes. It’s important to reconnect with that part of the soul. 🙂
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