I miss the constant sound of the cicadas in the oak trees.
I miss days so hot and humid that your clothing sticks to your skin before you even begin to sweat.
I miss the smell of old wood that permeates every inch of my grandparents home in Bandera.
I miss the pleasant discomfort of trying to navigate across a rocky creek barefoot in shallow rapids.
I miss driving through the hill country on warm summer nights with my hair pulled back, the windows down, feeling so happy that I could scream.
I miss sporadic thunderstorms on warm afternoons.
I honestly never thought I could miss my home as much as I missed Nick while he was deployed but I do.