On these gray and windy days I remember the Midwest where I am from. On these days in the Spring I would walk home from the bus stop down my little road and the creek was overflowing with melted April snow. Everything smelled wet like black, wet, snowy soil with sticks and water. I could see my breath in the wet, cold air, and even though it was cold with melt-y snow my mom would make me a banana milkshake. After that I would go to the barn to ride. Her car was filled with heat and salt from the snow tires and left-over cigarette smoke she didn’t know I knew about, and then I would get out and the sun was setting even though it was only 4:00 p.m., and I would step gingerly over the frozen melted snow towards the horses.
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