Mousetown..

Mousetown, the place where I grew up.

A place of desolation, tribulation and molestation of the mind, body and soul and spirit.

A place that broke me into a million tiny pieces. But, I learned to glue myself back together one shattered scattered piece at a time.

I was what most people in our fair community considered an outcast. While most girls my age where reading sappy love stories I was reading, The Good Earth by Pearl Buck. And while they were doing cheer leading practice I was running through the woods..Breakneck pace. Feeling the wind rush over my hot face. Feeling so alive.

I was eccentric to them..

Winter was the worst in Mousetown.It always is in small Midwestern towns.
The snow and freezing temperatures can make a person just want to curl up into a ball and sleep till Spring.

The sun..though, by God, it did shine bright there. I will give it that.

But any foul weather can break a spirit at times. Even the grey, cloudy, rainy weather of the North Western states.. That rain can beat your spirit to smithereens, like any school yard bully does.

Trudging through rain puddles on the way home from school I would always stop at Ritterscamp Heights, a fancy name for a set of woods that lay beside my home.

I would listen to the song of the Robins in Spring there. Closing my eyes and letting their song take me over. Tears would course down my cheeks for longing to be one of them. Fly away from my sorrow, my sins, my horror at everyday life.

Life is a great mixture of happiness and sorrow, for which I guess we are the better for. If we don't have sorrow how can we ever truly appreciate the great moments of happiness we have.

And when we have those moments of happiness, they carry us through the sorrow.
They remind us life is bearable. That maybe, just maybe we will live to be happy again.

by @ Nita Barrow- Zimmerman

(to be continued)


song for the day.....Lover You Should Have Come Over by Jeff Buckley
hope you have time to listen to it....feel it..i do