Currently, I’m in the Rio Grande Valley (RGV) and, per usual, I am finding myself alone and bored. However, despite the normal lonesomeness, I am always welcomed by the constant wind. Wind is the only thing going for the RGV. I take that back, it’s the wind and the trees.
There isn’t much of a “night life” in the RGV, but even if there was, I’d most likely not compete in it. Despite its boredom, one of my favorite things to do here is trespass. There are hundreds of inhabited acres survived by citrus and wild trees. At the same time, the wind never stops blowing. I’m assuming it is because it’s valley region between Texas and Mexico; but I swear, it is never below 70 degrees here and the wind is constantly in your face!
The people here are simple. I remember when I visited this area when I was a kid and it was all farm land. It has “grown” since then; but mostly into corporate restaurants in response to corporate developers buying tons of farm land.
There is a missing generation: mine. It seems as though once one graduates high school, he/she leaves and doesn’t come back (unless it is to open a new corporate restaurant.) Despite its missing generation, I am always greeted with a warm “hello” or “good morning” by everyone.
It’s a simple life here. Either work for a county ISD or make your own business, complete with half-assed workers with a “take it or leave it” mentality.
But one of my favorite things to do here, and I’m here for a week out of every month it seems, is to listen to the wind. I love to trespass in the citrus farms, which are everywhere, and watch the trees dance in the wind. They always seem wildly free amongst their well-planned rows and columns. I like to sit on the hood of my vehicle and watch their tops. They dance! It’s as almost they enjoy the goodness they provide. Along with the wind, they sing! They sing of the great loves in the listener’s life. But the song is more of a “roar.”
I do what I can to listen. And when I do it well, I hear Lohtse and Jennifer. I’m always reminded that I’m loved. It’s as if the wind and the dancing trees are explaining everything I have done wrong…and the means to fix it all.
I always miss them the most when I’m here.
It’s lonely out here in the fields. I can see why the youngsters want to leave. But the trees dance like no other here. The sound and sight is absolutely peaceful.
Being it is where my grandfather begat his family, I understand the yearning to grow into a respectable caregiver. The “big city” calls, however the “small town” sings.
Things seem so much easier here, it’s a wonder why people leave. Then the boredom sets in, and only someone not used to it wonders why so many don’t stay (if not for the thoughts, so much as the emotions.)
I miss my family. I love my family. I’m proud of my family
