Sweet homesickness

My iPod has been in a Devon Sproule kind of mood this morning. And it inspires such sweet homesickness.

The music itself is delicate folk, beautifully written and sung by the purest voice. She's a Charlottesville local, and I will always associate that CD with driving up and down Rte. 20 (usually to/from Scottsville) in August of last year. Route 20 is one of my favorite drives. A curvy country road that towards Barboursville requires some fun driving, and towards Scottsville inspires pastoral zen. (Unless you're stuck behind a tractor, which is just really frustrating). Listening to this music, I can see the bugs on my windshield, feel the humid air rushing past me because all the windows are open. Feeling a profound sense of loss at leaving such a pretty place.

I deliberately didn't listen to this CD for a while. But now it's something lovely. Probably because I feel rooted enough in Chicago that I am not instantly jumping in the car to head back east. I can compartmentalize better. So that kind of homesickness is something sweet. Because it indicates that there is something lost, but it was something good.