Midwest summer...

I hate to have to leave Minnesota in the summer. Any other time of year I will jump at the chance. But we wait so long for summer to arrive, and when it does, it is always spectacular -- beautiful clear skies, not too much humidity, everything in bloom, cool evenings. Ever since I was very young, when, while living on the East Coast, my parents would save up for vacations in the Midwest, this area has been my safe haven. Once we left New York behind, crossed over the magestic George Washington bridge, and headed out into the country, I began to breathe more easily. The population was less dense, the air smelled better, there were marvelous areas of hills and farmlands. I would wait with excitement for our crossing the Mississippi River. This marked the final divide between East and Midwest -- its magesty and loveliness was a welcome sight. Then on to the plains, to the dusty beauty of South Dakota, with it's air that smelled like hay, red-winged blackbirds that banked against the sky, the tiny hills of Ree Heights, the ranchers and townspeople who came to my Grandma's house to see us, always laden with steaks, fresh corn, tomatoes, squash, and flowers. But best of all were the horses they would bring in for my Dad and me to ride. No roller coaster at Savin Rock could possibly compare to the excitement of taking off at a gallop toward the hills and riding until sunset. When I think back on those years I realize I would have traded those years on the East Coast for a horse.