Town on the Edge of Forever

Dad moved us to the Land of 4 Seasons when I was just a child.

We were living in Florida at the time and Dad worked as an independent trucker.  On a northern pass, his route took him through a little town nearly surrounded by fresh water.

It was love at first sight.

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When he returned to Florida he informed Mom that he wanted to move the family to the little town.

It took him time to convince her that it was a good idea.

“It’s extremely cold up there, Charles,” she warned.  “We might freeze to death.”

After a couple of years’ Dad’s persuasiveness had its effect.

Mom finally agreed to move.

They never left.

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It’s a little town surrounded by hills and bordered on three sides by fresh water lakes and rivers.  It’s a place for the outdoor spirit.  Nature, hunting, fishing, and sports nurtured me in my formative years.

It’s a place where the wild and civilization collide, and where the seasons of the heartland cross over.

I grew up in the little town and learned to call it home.  As a grown man, it still has a hold of my guts.

In everything I do and say, the cold water, the woodland, and the fertile soil speaks through me.

Within my spirit I cling to the seasonal land and covet its freshness and spring bloom.

I grew up into manhood feeling the potency of the seasons in my stoutest bone.

As I live—even when I no longer breathe—I wish that who I am, or what remains of me, is forever touched by the Land of 4 Seasons.

I am faithfully persuaded that as long as the seasons caress my flesh, I will never die.

A block from the family home, main street points east and west.  As you move west on it, and look out into the horizon, you can see into forever.

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baltazarbolado.com

On twitter @Baltazar_Bolado

Author of Publius: Libertas Aut Mors & Sword and the Pythia

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