The land here rises and falls, colts gallop in tree-lined pastures and hedges hang low over meadows. It is, topographically speaking, not unlike the place I grew up. Horse country, semi-southern, a gentle clime.

But there are differences, too. And those are what I think about now that I’m home again. I think about the faces of my classmates, people I hadn’t seen in years but who are as familiar to me as if I’d met them yesterday. I think about knowing not just these people themselves, but their parents and brothers and sisters. It is the deep bench, the belief that there is much in reserve. It is the rootedness of long acquaintance.