Wide Open Spaces

 We went out to Texas at the end of the summer right after Allie graduated from Officer Training School. It was the first time I had been back since our move to Chattanooga almost two years ago. I was anxious to see in-laws, nieces and nephews, dear friends in Abilene {Tiff, I'm still mourning the fact you aren't there} and to have some fun downtime. What I didn't anticipate was how I would instantly fall back in love with the Texas landscape.

It's not until you're west of Fort Worth that the land truly begins to spread out. By the time we hit that point it was past twilight and impossible to see anything but an infinite navy sky. Even so, Jason and I both found ourselves breathing deeply as if our bodies instinctively knew that there was more room to move. But the next morning...

There it was in all its glory. I've never been happier to climb in a pickup truck and watch a Texas sunrise. It's hard to find a decent spot to watch the sunrise in the valley that is Chattanooga, but here it was spread before me. A gold, pink and cerulean gift.

By the time I was another mile down the road, the sky was the most breathtaking blue I had ever seen. I told Jason later that day, "I had forgotten how absolutely gorgeous Texas skies can be!" If you've never been to West Texas, just look...

One hundred and eighty degrees of sheer gorgeousness. The kind of sky that makes you want to stop, wander into the middle of a field and spin around a la Julie Andrews. It's the kind of sky that requires you to roll down the windows, turn up the volume and sing at the top of your lungs. This kind of sky spreads a grin across your face before you even know it's happened.

Or maybe that's just what happens when you haven't been back to Texas in a couple of years. Either way, I'll take it.