places

"Stations make me think of my own travels
All the people
The places I've been through
And when you find out they're the same thing
As the people
The places where you grew"- Denison Witmer

I have always had a slight case of wanderlust. And while many people don't necessarily enjoy Manassas, I have mad cabin fever if I'm there too long. I got to get out. I have to see new places. There's something crawling around my heart that's tugging me to move. I know that's a weird way of saying it, but it's true.

I took up a new part-time job recently. And it's far away from Manassas. OK, it's an hour. Which isn't bad considering that most DC commuters from Manassas spend about 4 hours a day on the road. As much as part of me would enjoy a DC job, I am thrilled with the location of Purcellville.

First of all, there's the drive. If I want to be adventurous, I can take another route. There's hardly any traffic on the way up, especially because I leave Manassas later in the morning. And because it's daylight, I can see all the trees waving by.

There's something about the countryside that makes me wistful and a little more happy inside. There's so much land all around. Driving through the land today made me realize how little land there is in Manassas. Everything's developed.

And there's something about the countryside that makes want to explore, even at the risk of getting lost for hours. I am less prone to do this because of the mileage and gas I already spend. I see all these roads which point to wine vineyards and one of these days I will just turn into one and keep driving.

And then the houses. Sometimes I say I'll never live in a house. But I do want one. And I mean the houses in town, which are close to businesses and were built a very long time ago, so they need to be restored. And I would NEVER want a house to myself, or to just few people. If I lived in house, I would want to live with a whole community of people. I know it sounds like a silly hippie dream, but I don't care. It's more affordable and it gives serious lessons in learning how to love others.

I see so many houses. Ones on huge plots of land, and ones seated right next to an old historic church. I see a lot of mansions, too. And I'm less impressed by those. I think mansions are sort of greedy unless you house lots of people...but who needs all that space if you're just down to 1-5 people. It doesn't make sense. I'm from a family of 7, and it wouldn't make sense for us. I think what bothers me about mansions is that the allure is the sense of status it gives to an individual.


I like exploring little towns. It's my favorite because you likely can't get lost but there's so much to see. But I went to one little shopping center in Purcellville the other day, and many of the businesses there were closed down. It made me very sad. It was a cute little center, but it looked deserted and deprived.

The sense of depravity follows me everywhere these days. Even when I experience the fun of driving or walking to a new place, I also feel a lot of sorrow. The drive there is most indicative of this feeling. Because I am surrounded by more land, it's like I'm surrounded by more pain. Let me explain. Land is more open. It's exposed and vulnerable. It's where plants grow...or don't grow. If nothing grows, it doesn't produce. There's no harvest, no life on the land. It's just barren.

I always thought of Manassas as a sort of waste land (T.S. Eliot style). Only its barreness is disguised. It's covered by ugly buildings and fake plastic trees. A new Wal-Mart, a new Starbucks ( heh). The constuction on Liberia is proof. So many buildings going up on land which had been bought and sold by firms and laid barren there for years. Barren but owned by the corporate world.

It's winter time, which means everything is naturally dead. The trees have no leaves and are an ugly shade of brown. Individually, their shapes beautiful. But bunched together, it looks like a bunch of mangled up twigs. The grass is a greyish-yellow at best. It runs for miles. I like country depravity. It shows its weakness, its vulnerability. The suburbs only wear a mask. And not the most appealing one, in my eyes.

I think people have different relationships with different places. And their spirits flourish or die depending on where they are. It's different for everyone.

I do like cities. I could explore a city all day and then the next day. But I have a connection to farmland. Never have I lived on farmland, I honestly don't even know if I can see myself living there. Most people thought I was pretty strange when I wrote a whole senior thesis on the connections between faith and farming. I do feel more at one with God when I am closer to the source of food.

Being in this place reminds me of God's constant provision, his faithfulness (even if it's dead, the seasons will change and it will come to life again) and his beauty.