Musings & Marginal Madness: Nostalgia, Growing Up, and Wonder Woman
There’s something very interesting about missing a place. Usually, it’s not the place itself that you miss, but the time associated with it. I’ve been thinking about this recently as I’m within an hour drive of the small Midwestern town where I spent my middle school years. On and off, I’ve entertained the idea of going back for a visit, but I’ve realized that it would be pointless. It’s not really the small community with its adorable library or the creek in our backyard that I miss. Rather, it’s the age, the people, the time of life that the place represents to me. I miss the carefree child I was then, how I would spend my time climbing trees or running barefoot down to the creek. I sometimes wish I hadn’t come to care if my clothes got muddy. Although, I think that has more to do with me doing my own ...