Home.

The Farmer’s Market reminds me of the small town where I grew up. Now I live in a small city that’s on the east coast. People gather at the outdoor farmer’s market to talk to the farmer’s, share stories and give advice on how to choose a ripe watermelon. I was told at the beginning of July here in the south is when watermelons ripen.

Home is when I stretch my bare feet into the grass with blades that tickle the underside of my foot. I smell Gardenias push through the air early in the morning. I hear the water in the creek run through the ditch in my backyard. Wild weeds cover the fence that touches my neighbors yard.

Holli Terrell-Cavalluzzi

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