While riding past the snow blanketed corn fields of the north, a thought approached me , yesterday, but I was too busy taking pictures to acknowledge it.

It wasn’t until passing the little homes, sprouting from the blankets of snow, in Colorado, that it really hit me:

There are so many different ways of life, in this country.  

Sure, I knew that people lived by different means of life financially and that income played a large role in where they built- or bought- their nests.

Yeah, I knew from history class that we migrated -or immigrated – into the pockets of this country that best suited the aspirations and cultures of our ancestors.

However,  it never really hit me how much physical geography affects our daily lives. 

I’ve seen more snow in the past 30 something hours than I have the near 30 years of my existence. I grew up near the sea. My hometown was built around rivers. We have bridges and tunnels weaving over and under them; never have I seen them frozen or snow covered.

 During winter, my mom hopes for snow because it’s that rare there. Maybe once or twice a year, her wish granted.  

As this train traverses Colorado, I’m in awe, not simply of the snow, but that this is their normal existence. The fact that they are not only able to endure this climate, but to thrive in it, is incredible to me!

I have so much to learn about this country I call home. 


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