When your beloved football team gets spanked in its own backyard, 45-7, with the entire neighborhood looking on, you tend to focus your attention elsewhere.
Make no mistake, I still love my Cornhuskers.
And I love the state in which they hale.
After Saturday’s embarrassing loss to the Wolverines, I was opening a can of dog food when I spotted a poem that proudly hangs on our kitchen wall.
I paused and read the poem, which had been displayed there for over 14 years.
It was written by my daughter Kacey.
The poem was selected as one of the tops in the state, and Kacey was invited to read her poem, along with other smarter-than-me kids from across Nebraska, at the State Capitol in Lincoln.
I am proud to share.
My Nebraska
By Kacey Ranae Horn
Alliance St. Agnes Eighth Grade
Language Arts Class
Mrs. Laurie Gould – Instructor
March 2009
“When I open my eyes, I see the surrounding sandhills, the brilliant blue sky, the rolling tumbleweeds.
I see the white-tailed deer racing through the cornfield, the cows grazing near a weathered windmill, the countless birds making formations as they soar.
I see a painter that’s putting oranges, reds, pinks, and purples around a blazing gold sun that’s getting closer and closer to the horizon.
Even after the sun sets, the colors remain a while longer.
When I listen to all that is around me, I hear the meadowlarks trilling a golden tune, the breeze making its way through the cottonwood trees, the miniature wildlife sprinting across the parched grass.
I hear cars hurrying by, people conversing, and tires screeching when I’m confined by the towering buildings of the city.
I hear only silence when I’m surrounded by the hay bales and hills of the farmyard.
When I inhale, I smell the hot baking earth, the gently falling rain, the vivid wildflowers on the side of the road.
I taste the sunny, warm air in the west, and the summery, humid air in the east.
When I reach out my hand, I feel the scorching sidewalk, the cotton from the trees floating through the sky, the frigid snowflakes landing noiselessly on the ground. I fell the sharp cactus, the smooth sand from the hills, the rough bark on the trees.
When I finally become completely aware of all that is around me, I realize that I’m not in the middle of nowhere as everyone suspects.
Instead, I am in the middle of everywhere.
This is my Nebraska.”