Claustrophobia and Nostalgia

I used to think I loved trees. And maybe it isn't that I don't love them, it's just that they are too close. They hover over me wherever I go stifling sunlight and housing noisy, incessant birds who crap on my car. I honestly can't get away from them. Which is a good thing for the area because so many people smoke. Need the good ol' trees to act as the air filter so I breathe something besides second hand smoke.
What I crave, what I desperately need, is the open, deserty, dry, grassy, plains of Idaho. Where I can see for millions of miles in every direction. Where the sun is free to bake my freckled, pale skin uninterrupted by annoying tree shadows. And birds have to nest on buildings and power lines when all the trees are taken. And they have to try really hard to crap on my car. I want to breath again. I want to go outside without being surrounded by cars, and people, and TREES. For some reason, I am taking this out on the poor trees*.

I am so excited to go home for a visit that I can barely stand it. I am certainly nervous about the plane ride, but I figure if it crashes it would be about two minutes of sheer panic and then I will go to heaven with Atrion. Everyone would be devastated, which is the only downside. I am not afraid of death, I am deathly afraid of pain. Or the thought of pain that is never ending. Like when you get a foot cramp and freak out that it might never go away. I told Cody if I died he could never get married again. He agreed saying his whole life would be ruined and I was quite satisfied with that response. Enough so, that I agreed he should be happy and that if he found someone worthy to follow in my footsteps then that's okay. Not great, but o-kay. Besides contemplating multiple scenarios where I die, I have been planning a picture vacation for Cody. He is very sad that he doesn't get to come and so I am giving him a "proxy" vacation. I plan on taking a billion pictures of everything we take for granted about Idaho. There are probably going to be a  lot of boring photos in other people's eyes (especially if you have never lived anywhere else), but so be it. We love and miss everything about it. Even the bugs are better there.

I want to throw the discus so bad. I probably suck and my muscles are all atrophied from eating gummy bears and fried chicken. But it's a favorite past time of mine. I want my Dad and my two brothers to throw with me. I imagine going to Robert Stuart Junior high right before sunset. The blazing orange light burning low to the horizon while multiple shades of pinks and light purples spread across the sky. I have to use my hand to shield my eyes while I watch my dad wind up with the discus in his hands. Once it launches through the air, I lose track of it because of the glare of the sun, but once it starts its descent it's easier to see and watch land. The darker part of the sky in direct opposition to the glowing mass beside it. Little gnats buzz around and some sprinklers come on to water the grass, but are probably set wrong and end up splashing the side of the brown bricks of the school. The neighborhood kids are riding their bicycles around and some dogs bark in the distance. My dad and brothers make fun of each other and probably tell inappropriate jokes and swear a bit. They all show off while I just try to make the discus fly straight. Then it's dark and time to go home. We pile in the car and drive the short distance home, probably stopping for a sweet treat on the way...because that's how we roll.

Mostly what I want to do though, is drive out into the middle of nowhere (which is where we used to live, so I know exactly where it is) and smell the fields and feel a fresh breeze and not see anyone for at least a few minutes.

*Disclaimer: Cody said that I should clarify that the trees are mostly around our apartment complex. This isn't exactly true since everywhere I go I can't see very far because of the trees (which I loved when we first moved here, now it's annoying) besides the interstate. But when it isn't trees, it's big buildings. And when it isn't big buildings, it's idiot drivers. So the trees are a symbol of all those things that make me feel claustrophobic and antsy.