by Robin Byrd

There was a tornado in California mid December – a strange occurrence this side of the Rockies.  Out of the ordinary; it made me think of home and growing up in the midwest in tornado country; it made me think of the sirens going off and the treks to the basement to wait them out.  I was suddenly in remembrance of “the house that built me.”  All the experiences my midwestern background has bestowed upon me that inform my world.  We are who we are because of our experiences.

I may have southern nuances that pepper my work but I am a midwestern writer with a midwestern sound – a sound I inherited from the region that grew my sentiments.  I understand the tornado and its winds and thunder and lightening.  I know there is safety in the eye of the storm.  I know that the quiet in the midst of a storm builds hope and expectation…  I know the sun comes out after and we behold brighter days.

I enjoy traveling home to rejuvenate myself and though, nothing remains the same, it is good to remember where one comes from in order to stay the course of where one wants to go and to continue on regardless of the tornados…