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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I'm not saying that I was worry-free or not concerned about all those leaves falling from my tree. But I tell you truly that while I was some 2000 miles away from home for three weeks, my early rises disappeared as I stayed in bed past nine, listening to the sweetest sounds of silence and giving myself a fighting chance at some form of balance. Those dark southern nights in rural farmland with lights few and between were siren. It was a great change of pace and very therapeutic not making haste, and never being laced with guilt for sleeping late, nor apologizing for all the ice cream and great southern foods I ate. I saw the beauty of tree-lined horizons, red-caped sunrises, and breath-taking sunsets bordered by fading white clouds, courtesy of the hand of God. I saw a young dear brown like the trees, calculating and debating his next move as he gazed along the highway, barely visible. The recently harvested fields of cotton, corn, and beans lay bare, patiently waiting for spring. The air was clear, and rather pleasing to the ear was a busy rail line near, running north and south with trains hauling cars filled with grain heading for ports. Among the greatest beauties of life are the contrasting differences between cultures, people, and places in the world. Having lived for decades among people who rarely look into each other's eyes as they pass along a walkway or street, it took some getting used to people who loved to say, "Hi". But after three weeks, it was time to say goodbye 121112cjPoSoup
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