never been here before

Me and the trees, losing our leaves Falling like blood on the ground I want to be evergreen Everything dies, I know last night Part of me wasn't around I want to be evergreen Yeah, evergreen... Waiting, and listening Hoping and missing all of our time left alone I'm the one cutting the rope Frostbite in winter, 'cause like a splinter you come and follow me down I'm the one cutting the rope Holiday end, I'm here once again, and I'm left alone on the bus with my head on the ground, in hopes that I'm found by you this time around The sun will rise soon and tackle the moon Chasing it still in the sky All that I've got is tonight Excuses and reasons, and now tis the season For all that I never got right All that I've got is tonight Holiday end, I'm here once again, and I'm left alone on the bus with my head on the ground, in hopes that I'm found by you this time around The night is a crow, saying come hold me All that I know is that I've b

I walked outside this morning, bundled up in a couple of sweatshirts, my coat, a scarf and my slippers. It was 6am and I sat on the porch swing hanging *under* our porch. I started to swing. I watched a few lone cars traveling west on 1-64, I saw the sun come up in the reflection on the chapel windows. I took a breath... and then I smelled it. Winter. This is my first Thanksgiving without my family. I realize this is something I need to prepare myself for, because it's likely the Lord will take me far, far away from them after I finish my degree. But sitting on that swing this morning, shivering under all my layers, trying hard to forget that I live in a city... I didn't want to be here. This is the first time I can honestly say that being in St. Louis wasn't what I wanted for the moment. Being away from what I know and where I am most comfortable is not where I wanted to be. The smell of winter has its own life. It's crisp, cold, clean. For me, it's always held a p

This is the winter I am used to. Driving on a gravel road, looking to my right or left and seeing the tracks of a combine, a truck or a tractor in the field. The shelter of trees in the background tell me that somewhere nearby is a house or a farm, even if you can't see it. These trees speckle a landscape of flat land, rolling hills and spacious skies. The bright sun doesn't offer much warmth, and there is the presence of bitter wind. The ground a usually dull shade of brown, dying form the frost, the cold... the winter. The winter's are harsh in Nebraska. But to me, they are worth it. Winter in St. Louis is very different. It's cloudy, damp, and kinda sad. Things are green, red, yellow. But not brown. The birds are still outside chirping, you can still go outside without a coat (usually a scarf will suffice, maybe some gloves on an usually cold day). Always take an umbrella or wear your raincoat. Invest in rainboots or you'll spend two or three seasons with wet sh