Down a Rough, Dusty Memory Lane

The lush green of the swaying trees put me in a trance-like state this morning.
It had me thinking of my teen days in northern MN where the summers were hot, but not unbearable.
The fields were lush with a sea of wheat waving as you passed by.
The dust would swirl in the cab of my old truck that lacked both power steering and air conditioning.
It wasn't so much a specific memory that overtook my mind, just a general feeling of loneliness that marked those years, yet a longing to be there, driving the back roads, visiting friends, and uncovering what this world has to offer one piece at a time.

No cell phones.
No blaring radios.
No deadlines and pressures of life.

Just youth, freedom, the hot sun, and the local swimmin' hole.
Great treasures stored in my mind and heart, but reality reprimands:
You can never go home again.

Those memories were made for just that period of time.
All my friends are gone from there.
The places and names are all different now.
The world has changed.
And I have changed tremendously.

It was still a nice turn down a rough, dusty memory lane though.