I am from a gravel lane off of an old windy road.
A leaf gliding through the air and being caught in my fingertips.
A wind so hard it can blow anything away.
I am from a fallen tree over a foot high creek.
A field of glowing light in the dead of night.
A rooster crowing to announce the start of day.
I am from the arrowheads crested into the earth.
A tiny seed of corn sprouting over six feet tall.
A puddle left behind from an angry storm cloud.
I am from a footprint stained into the mud.
A hill where children would ride on their sleds.
The first flower in the beginning of spring.
I am from the stalling tractor wanting a few more moments of rest.
A white house with a red tin roof.
A jeep mud bogging through the dense woods.
I am from a large blue Foot Hill Acres sign.
Off of an old windy road.
On a gravel lane.
