Sunset in middle America – in towns through the heartland, this is what evening is made of. Families on porches, sunlight streaming in warm orange waves through the gently dancing boughs of poplar and elm and oak and maple.
Looking through my own screen, I can see my neighbor’s home, flag moving slowly and rhythmically in the slight rustle of evening breeze. Farther out, clouds of bees and flies work their way through the fields, and the sounds of children laughing fill the air.
This is our country. This is America. This is my home.