magic and my man

Here is my sweet man, on his way out to Rugby, the geographical center of North America, I think. Well, I know he's heading to Rugby. He's already traveled all around the state, and his voice is getting stronger. He's already working for North Dakota, dedicated to his work. It's amazing to watch him, or rather, to FEEL his energy. And we're only about halfway through it - what a ride. Who would've thunk I'd love politics so much? What I mean to say is that Steve has always loved politics, but for me, it's sort of like, "Can we REALLY make a difference?" and the resounding answer is YES yes and more yes. So we keep going.

Bill and I drove down the street to Sunday school, and every tree was frosted white. Set against the true blue sky, I couldn't breathe. I said, "If you're not from around here, you just can't appreciate this beauty. You'd never even see it." Bill said, "Yeah, if you aren't from the prairie..." the line from a book he's got, and it's true. While every region has its beauty, this is the land I love - the cold, the wind, the huge skies that stretch forever, the frosted trees and tan grasses in the ditches, the long straight roads that are mainly deserted, the dilapidated barns, the cows. I keep thinking I'd like to leave someday, but I never do - this is my home. And it's magic. I wanted to take a picture of the trees, but we were running late. I doubted they would stay for the hour. Bill thought they would, but when we left the church, we saw thick flakes of white gently dropping off the trees and onto our windshield. Was the magic gone? A few trees clung stubbornly to their frosty beauty, but by the time we pulled up in front of the house, the trees had returned to their bare brown. So I apologize that I can't share the beauty with you, but I can tell you about it, and hope you got to see it, too.