I traveled the bluegrass on Harrodsburg 68, Shaker fences, and the finest horses in the land, haze and hollows. I went back to my roots, to remember why I left. Family led me back. Back to the home inside I didn't know I left behind. When we go back, we can go forward - when we know just how much we're loved. Going home is part sentimental, part grounding. When we know who we belong to, we travel on, carrying the people we love. Distance and time are insignificant. What matters are the people we hold close, the people who are waiting for us, after a twilight burned night, with the light still on and hearts open wide.