Home Sweet Home

We are home now, where the sounds are lawn mowers, birds, roosters and donkeys as opposed to brass horns, hootin' and hollerin', traffic, and "somebody scream y'all!" or "put your hands up!". I smell manure, fresh cut grass and wood smoke not stale beer, marijuana, sunscreen, and sweat. It's quiet here, everyone is doing their own thing after visiting in the morning, I'm doing my homework, but in the background I hear Michael Franti singing of the different ways to say hello, remembering his incredible performance, living in between two worlds.