Well Said, Zach Brown
I’ve walked nineteen of the twenty arrondissements – I’ll do my last one today. My feet and legs are worn out, as is my spirit.
I miss home.
Yesterday morning as I walked across town to pick up some laundry, I plugged in my earplugs to hear Zach Brown on iTunes. One of my favorites, “Chicken Fried,” was first up.
“Well, I was raised up
Beneath the shade of a Georgia pine
And that’s home you know
Sweet tea, pecan pie and homemade wine
Where the peaches grow…”
“…It’s funny how it’s the little things in life
That mean the most
Not where you live or what you drive
Or the price tag on your clothes
There’s no dollar sign on a piece of mind
This I’ve come to know.”
“…I thank God for my life
And for the stars and stripes
May freedom forever fly
Let it ring…”
How true his words. I have met some of the nicest people in the world while here in Paris. They have been very kind to help me navigate everything from their streets to repairing a washing machine.
Yes, Paris is truly magical, simply magnificent. But there’s no place like home.