“don’t go gently.”

This phrase, i learned on my first visit to the lone star state, is a standard saying of central Texas. presumably paraphrased from the well-known Dylan thomas poem, I can appreciate its origin as well as its gently americanized reboot. as the former urges the reader to fight the slow onslaught of death, the abbreviation seems to spur from a more lively and proactive place. a more… texan place.

to me, it inspires a sense of convexity: the idea of imposing oneself, occupying space without apology, and seizing one’s destiny (by the horns, if you will). this, of course, may conjure visions of a kind of in-your-face aggression that are the stuff of a low-key coastalite’s nightmares. but my time in the buckle of the bible belt was nothing but pleasant, punctuated with hat tip’s, hearty welcome’s, and a whole lot of true-to-their-word southern hospitality. below, a few observations –

grass and wildflowers bloom through the legs of football bleachers. crickets every night. oak imbued barbecue smoke. white bread. sweet tea + ample paprika on that potato salad. big smiles and even bigger welcomes. peanut butter pie. small towns, big horses. 75 mph speed limits and polite driving. love’s, buc-ees, waffle house, HEB. darlin’. football spirit, college home team. the voice of a woman named “Modena”, drawn out like molasses, who was born and raised in Waco, Texas.

simple livin – is it real, or just an ideal of a foregone time? a time before television, the internet, smart phones, instant pots. a time before microwaves, Starbucks, bread machines, alarm clocks, washer/dryer sets. before McDonald’s, Cracker Barrel, In-N-Out. a time of long days led by the sun, weeks dictated by the weather, months informed by the seasons, and years remembered only by journal entry, correspondence, or memory. maybe the occasional daguerreotype.

i guess my daydreams are often tinted sepia, fading at the edges, and softened by romance; scented of soft dirt and dried flowers; pearls. gingham. rusted metal.

generous clouds that put on a show, displaying their robustness and playing peekaboo with the sun. longhorns, tired of being a spectacle to newcomers, rolling their eyes at cameras and comments.

time seemed to move more slowly here – take the walk instead of driving. watch the birds. feel the earth move around you. don’t hurry off, stay awhile. – as if life is a stroll rather than a sprint. we end up at the same point regardless.