"Nothing’s gonna change my world, nothing’s gonna change my world."

We sang along to Rufus Wainwright covering the Beatles’ song. Neither of us looking at each other, both bad at goodbyes. It was nighttime; the Columbia streets were quiet. Across I-70 and into downtown and nothing’s gonna change my world.

A statement and a prayer. Our lives shifting and changing even as we clung to them.

But still, nothing’s gonna change my world.

Speaking of Magnolia Trees:

The one in front of Neff Hall, that valiant Southerner far from home, is still waiting for its blossoms.

Missouri is just at the edge of where magnolia trees can grow. In the South, these trees tower and shade and the white flowers dangle among the dark green leaves. In front of Neff Hall the magnolia tree is shorter, it looks stooped, like it is trying to make the best out of its lot in life.

Speaking of transplanted Southerners:

It’s 74° in Dallas, Texas. I picture that a warm breathy breeze is blowing across the North Texas plains. The stars are out and lights are glowing in the open windows.

There is warmth and the very beginning of the idea of a Texas summer, which is hot, filled with bright sunlight and evening thunder and lightening, but perhaps no rain.

And I want to be in Texas so bad I can taste it. There is something there that centers and grounds me. More than the familiarity of home, more than the place where I grew up. There is space there, room to think and breathe.

Maybe it’s the fact that a day’s drive can lead to the Piney Woods, tall and green, to the rolling hill country with its scrubby trees, could lead to the coast painted in sea greens and blues, could lead to the Davis Mountains. The fact that in all those different places you would still be in Texas, still be home.

Speaking of Summer:

Right now it’s 59° in Columbia and maybe all my longing for Texas is just coming from the fact that I am cold. It really galls me to be able to wear long sleeves in the middle of May. I’m hoping that the heat will get here soon. But until then, I’m going to snuggle in under my blankets and read.