Notes from the Spring Creek Arts Guild

Two weeks ago, I was hoping things would be looking brighter on the pandemic front when I sat down to write this week. There is some good news to be sure, especially locally, as we have the world’s fastest grocery store installation project happening and, as far as I have heard, no confirmed cases of the virus in the county. There is plenty of tragic news from elsewhere, however. We prayer warriors have a lot to keep us busy these days.

I made a run to town today-the first time I have driven my car off the ranch in nearly two weeks. It honestly feels like it has been more like two months, and from the looks of the land I would believe it had been. What a transformation!! All the rain and warm temperatures have turned everything bright green with spots of blue, coral, purple, and yellow. While it certainly is not a spring for abundant wildflowers, those that showed up are beautiful. I drove home very slowly, enjoying the springtime afternoon and listening to country music on my radio—thanking God that I live in San Saba County in Texas, USA.

When I got home and got back to work across the office from my husband, he got a call from someone he regularly works with. I could hear the guy’s voice on the phone just enough to hear the “tune” of his side of the conversation. I thought about how different those conversations sound here in Texas than they do in the Southeast where I grew up. Of course the accents are different, but it is more than that. Texans, especially those from rural areas and small towns have a very distinct style of conversing. To me it seems a bit more open and friendly, more prone to good humor, generally has a few more swears interspersed than what I hear in the southeast, but most of those are of a barnyard nature so they are not as offensive as some, at least not to me.

This time of the year, I start thinking about my anniversary of picking up what little I owned at the time and moving to Texas. I do not remember the exact date, but it was around the last week of March. I had finished my coursework at the University of Tennessee, and my parents had given me a little pickup for graduation, so I packed it full and took off. I felt like I was finally moving home. Having grown up in the Air Force, I had never had a place that I was really “from,” but when I came to Texas, I knew it was where I belonged. This year marks thirty-five years that I have lived in this great state. It has changed dramatically, as have I. But thankfully, many things stay the same—like friendly conversations and bluebonnets along the side of the road in the spring, and of course all the rattlesnake stories that start circulating this time of the year. I truly believe that God blessed Texas, and He certainly blessed me when He brought me here in 1985. SpringCreekArtsGuild@gmail.com