#texasforever

I was born on a snowflake and blew home on a tumbleweed. I've got red dirt in my soul, my blood, and forever in my socks. I've seen the majesty of a sunset splashed sky without a thing blocking the horizon for miles. I've tasted dirt on the wind and the bitter blue edge of a cold front, all in the glow of a Friday Night Light. I've seen the power of a twister, heard the thunder of a hailstorm, and braced the teeth of a blizzard. Oh I've traveled. I have smelled the cool breath of New Mexico's mountains, seen the smoky mornings of East Tennessee, and felt the ocean lapping the Virginia seashore. I've walked where legends trod, across DC's marble hallways and Berlin's storied pathways. I've even walked among the trees of Texarkana, beheld the beauty of Hill country bluebonnets, and dipped my sandy toes in the Gulf. Despite all the wonders of this earth, at the end of the day, I'm so blessed to call the cotton fields of West Texas home. I'm so thankful to live in a land of coyotes and tumbleweeds, Co-op caps and churches, Dr. Pepper and hot sauce. A land where boots and jeans are appropriate for weddings, funerals, graduations, and airports. Long live cowboys and barbed wire, horses and Chevy trucks, guitars and tractors. I can't claim Texas as my sole lineage, Tennessee won't let me. But Texas is my heritage and my legacy, along with all those legends who've walked the hallowed red dirt. I'm grateful to call this proud land my home, more so this year than ever before.