Morning in Tennessee

This morning I woke up early and drove.  I don’t know if I was asphyxiated by close quarters with relatives, or close encounters with religious and political ideologies that seem so different than my own, but “my feet tugged at the floor,” and the blessed backroads, the ones I no longer live with in the southlands, came acallin’. 

Point and shoot was the order of the day as I meandered down to Goodlettsville, TN, and then out in some general direction that seemed like the right way.  And for half an hour I assaulted by eyes with frosted white hillsides and scraggly treetops, and drove on, thinking about the topography of the soul.

Something inside wanted to keep on driving.  Something inside always wants to keep on driving. 

I wonder if the backroads in Uruguay will ever cradle my soul the way these backwoods do. 

I passed through “Alta Loma” and remembered that before English was the dominant language in these parts and after the Cherokee, Chickasaw, and Shawnee lost prominence, it was SPANISH that was spoken here, with old Hernando De Soto and his chaps romping around these backwoods. 

I wonder if, when Hernando De Soto was wandering around the backwoods if he missed the ridges and valleys of Extremadura, or if there was something here that made him feel at home.

Of course, maybe hunger, hunger for fame, for wealth, for power…  maybe he never even saw them at all.

I decided that I had seen enough backwoods for one morning, and remembered that I had promised to make breakfast this morning.  So I drove back from Alta Loma to Ridgetop, watching the “red wafer” of sun break over the hills, gave thanks for the breath I draw and for another day to live and love in this beautiful world.

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2 responses to “Morning in Tennessee

  1. I’ve got the perfect music to listen to while reading this: “Just another day” performed by Brian Eno. Here, as grandchildren or grand-grandchildren of immigrants we often have this kind of feelings. Think about how close/far we can feel when we meet Italians or Frenchs or people from Spain. Sometimes we talk with Mariana about things we share with them and how many things in our day are reflections of a far-away culture.

  2. Evening in Tennessee –

    Wonderful seeing you folks here. Just an absolute joy. What a blessing you both are. It is amazing that I feel so different these days, so much clearer, so much more at peace. I laugh easier. I feel like a totally different individual at 36 than at 26 or at 16. But, considering everything that we’ve all been through separated by hundreds or thousands of miles, I honestly feel that Christ began working in my life all those many years ago chasing fireflies with Matthew in a pasture on the outskirts of the city. Some nuts are tougher to crack than others.

    As I was driving home, it occurred to me that I’ve actually known someone for twenty years.

    I am praying for your faith to remain strong down there in your Southlands. It’s the journey, friends… Colossians 3:1-4

    With Love ~k


    Cheers to Marcelo for dropping Brian Eno’s name.

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