Grassy Illinois plains and fields of wildflowers call to me.
I miss the jagged rows of corn and the sweet lullaby the combines sing in the summertime.
The whistle of the wind through the trees and land for miles and miles does something for my soul.
Deer frolicking through the timber put a smile on my face like no other.
Beanstalks in the fields and cattails in the ditches with the toads lurking and croaking make me miss home.
The hot summer sun shining down on the gravel roads and glinting off the grass makes me miss who I used to be.
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