One day, in the not so distant future, you'll find yourself living in Milan/New York City/London/(insert a fabulous city here) and you'll be complacent about your Albertan roots. You'll tire of having to explain where in Canada your city is and pretty soon you won't bother trying to sing its praises. But one day, in a concrete jungle or hazy metropolis with angry Milanese drivers gesturing wildly at one another, amidst intermittent yelling and honking and ambulance sirens...you'll look up at the sky and you'll miss this one here. This big, blue, never-ending expanse of sky over your head. A sky that you would've sworn exists everywhere in the world, I mean, it's just a sky. But you were wrong. You'll miss this Alberta sky and you'll try to describe it in words to people who have never seen it but it's impossible because the feeling it gives you, deep down, it's indescribable- it's the feeling of fast cars and freedom and endless possibility. And you breathe that mountain air, the first few out of the airport like a fish being put back into water: huge gulps as if you haven't been breathing for a hundred days, as if you couldn't remember what oxygen in your lungs feels likes. Your body remembers this air and this sky. You lean back on the park bench and take it all in because one day, you'll be back in Milan/New York City/London/(insert a fabulous city here).
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