Sitting at my desk, I look out the front windows of the Green River Star and I see the Golden Hour Senior Center, the building where Roosevelt Elementary School once was; my elementary school.
Some of my first memories were made across the street from where I now sit at my desk. It is where I learned to communicate with peers and write my name, first in print then cursive.
There is something very nostalgic to me about moving back to my hometown and writing for my hometown newspaper after living away for so long. Many things have changed over the years, yet much is the same.
The singular being I see the most change in, is me. I see the young girl I used to be in old photographs and think of all of the transitions I have gone through in life up to this point.
I think of my late father who I wish was still here to see me write for our local newspaper. I can't help but wonder how proud he would be of the progress I've made since my graduation from the University of Wyoming.
I wish he was here to see his little girl all grown up.
From my old stomping grounds as a child growing up in Green River, to working as a professional within the community across the street from where my education started, brings me full circle. It is enlightening.
The experience is somewhat like the times I have climbed to the top of Mansface. The surrounding scenery changes with every step upward. Things that seemed so massive up close become minuscule before my very eyes. My field of vision expands immensely. At the top, I can see across the valley to Kissing Rocks. I can see tiny semi trucks driving through the twin tunnels under Castle Rock.
The town of Green River stretches out in front of me in all its glory. I see and understand it more clearly and appreciate it for its small town beauty. The people here are my people. These mountains are my mountains. This is my home and I'm glad to be back.
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