One of the most unexpected moments of joy on my train trip afer college was the feeling I got when I stepped off the train in Montana. I had spent the past 3 weeks in the southwestern and eastern portions of the continent, learning what words like "hot" and "muggy" meant and what the world looked like when it was covered with leafy trees. The first breath I took in Montana smelled like rain on pine needles, and the air was warm in a way that promised the night would cool quickly and there would be dew on the ground in the morning. That was the first time that I realized that I knew what home smelled like, even if I was still a few hundred miles away.
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