Some days I miss the green. I miss the deepness of the woods. I miss looking into its darkness, even in the middle of the day.

Some days, I miss the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the leaves. I miss the sound of a rain storm moving through the hollow. I miss the sound of water flowing in the creek. I miss the noise of nature.

I miss the smell of moist, fresh air. I miss the smell of smoke from a homemade fire pit. And I miss how it plays with the light as it lifts through outstretched branches.

Some days, I miss West Virginia.