The sun shines down on the Savannah River, making the surface look like millions of diamonds. I lean over the side of the boat and see the rays reflected in the depths. Ron is at the wheel, his girlfriend beside him. Des, Mart, and Sharita are by the prow, and Gloria, Jewel, Jean, Gwen, and I are sitting at the back holding on to the rope from the tube.
We head down the river to the rope swing and have fun down there for awhile. Squealing girls until they hit the water, and the only guy giving a masculine yell as he drops.
We all take turns tubing, and spend the day swimming and relaxing in the sun.
On the way home, I stand close to the prow, leaning against the passengers side windshield and letting the wind rip at my hair.
There are moments for everyone when they could swear on anything that there is nothing more beautiful than the thing they are seeing at the moment. I have many of those, and today was just another.
This is the moment when I could swear that the wind is trying to pull me back into the water. The sun shines back onto the water, masking the deathly chill that pervades the water. A few pelicans fly over the boat, the hoarse cries barely audible over the roar of wind and motor in my ears.
The wind is ripping at my hair, seemingly wanting to tear it out by the roots. These are the times I love, the times I live for.
I love this life here- the days where you work so hard that you crave sleep, its all you can think about. Then the days like this, where the only thing you do is relax all day.
I love the smell of the barn as I'm cleaning out stalls. Feeling the pure power beneath me as I drive the roaring 4 wheeler down a lonely dirt road, hauling a bucket, a rope, and a faithful dog. I love the perpetual green of the trees, the rush of wind in my ears. I love listening to the mooing cows and whinnying horses as I'm working- who needs music when you have natural music at your fingertips? I love the yapping challenge of my little puppy to the amused older Cyclone, affectionately nicknamed Psycho and Cy. I love the cry of newborn kittens, the smell of fresh air.
The early morning sun shining down on the back of a horse. The dew on my boots. The rhythm of my boots compared to the rhythm of a horse's hooves.
The feel of horse breath on my face. The feel of the horse whuffling over my hand as I feed him a rare apple. The rattling of a cowhide on the floor, the tap of a boot in a stirrup, the tug of the reins in my hands...the feeling of utter freedom I have here.
I've finally started to gain back the weight I unwillingly lost. My calf muscles are once again filling out. My core is getting stronger again, my hands and arms remembering how to do the work my brain has known how to do my whole life. My arms are sunburnt, as any farmgirl's should be, and my eyes brighter than they usually are. Color is starting to come back into my cheeks, and my breath comes easier. Humor comes more easily, fun is more enjoyable. Laughing is no longer forced.
I am free.
My hair is finally lying soft against my shoulders, a sign of new beginnings not only for my hair, but for me.
This- this is the life I love. These are the moments I live for. And now, with my face towards the wind, standing on the prow of the boat, I can smell the tantalizing scent of salt in the air, reminding of the ocean I haven't seen- but long to- in 3 years.
Reminding me that these moments, these times, are what I live for. They are worth every other thing in the world...I would trade everything I had if only I could bring my bf down to live with me here. My home...where I belong. Forever.
This is who I am.