One More Branson

I’ll let the Branson adventure go into the past with this blog. Although there are many things we did and saw that I thought I might write about, they all kind of fade away and leave just a few highlights in my mind.
The first was being there with loved ones. The experience was much, much better when we could share it with someone. Everything from Pierce Arrow to calling the nice tow truck man was better because we were with those we cared about and who cared about us. We appreciate them asking us to go along with them.
The second was the rush and noise of a town that says it’s about 6,000 people when the reality is that at any given time, probably ten times or more that number are within its trade area. That makes the small town not so small any more. Yet the people of Branson have figured out a way to make us visitors feel welcome and wanted. Waitresses engage in conversation. Locals answer questions (that they’ve probably been asked a hundred times before). Service is generally good. Things are usually clean and well-lit. They’re doing something right over there in southwest Missouri.
The third was the difference in the night time between Indian Point and Wichita. We got home and I went out on our porch to just sit. I noticed something that wasn’t the same. Then it hit me. There is a low, audible rumble in Wichita, no matter where one is, that is a combination of traffic, machines, and other city noises. Even when one lives away from the freeways and there is no traffic close by, the rumble is there. But on Indian Point, that is missing. The quiet is truly quiet. And it’s something I miss.
The girls are coming back this evening. Some have moved over. Some have yet to move. It’s also raining off and on (mostly on, today) so the move-over will probably come in spurts. Welcome back, and welcome back to work.