Little Gravel Road

Between our subdivision and town is a gravel road. Just one. It curves its way through fields and rocky hills, over an almost-creek, and towards another subdivision. The beginning and end are far from country; yet the space in between is a slice of rural heaven. Husband grumbles his wish that it be paved every time we use it. But I – I secretly hope it is never paved. That the gravel road lined by horses and cows somehow never ages. For even in its beautiful Colorado state, this dusty, random path is a nostalgic slice of Kansas.

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