I shed some tears today.

As I drove out of the city, through the old stomping grounds of my childhood, middle school and part of my high school years, I cried for the land.

I lived in a town of 1,000 or less, with no houses, no commercial buildings, no eateries, all farmland, on the way to the City of Des Moines. This was now the opposite, signs on the fields of corn stating the land was for sale, inside and outside of the town. How far can buildings go?

I loved riding in a car, seeing the land, feeling the wind through the windows during childhood on the way to the city. Now we don't smell or feel the wind - buildings block it.

I cried for the animals - the deer roaming, the pheasants that crossed the road, along with the fox, raccoons, skunks, and opossums. Now I see them lying alongside the road, or in the road, because we have taken their land, and we are in a hurry to get somewhere and cannot slow down to let them find a place to go or food to eat. I hear, "We have too many animals, or they don't need to be here." We do not see them as our equal.

I cried for what once was, will not be and will not be understood unless we tell our stories and try to preserve our land.

I drove on, through less traveled roads, cornfields and soybean fields are being harvested, there are rolling hills of trees. Rarely a car was seen. An eagle flew in the sky above me, a pheasant came out of the ditch and flew over the cornfield, birds flew about, and the breeze blew in my window with the blue skies and sun beaming in.

A smile came back and the tears dried as I gave gratitude.