In 4 days, I will move for the first time since I was six months old. The little 10-acre farm I have called home for 18 years has served as a righteous turf for an adolescent boy and his imagination as well as a vigorous course in the makings of a hard worker and a tough man. There will be no more pigs, no more corn, and no more wood furnace. I am full of excitement as move-in day approaches; however, I have a looming dread that I will be nothing without my home.

During this final week I have taken to - when I'm driving alone - imagine that I am returning home with a camera crew to show the world where the famous Noah Schaller grew up. The summer sunset, which I have had the chance to enjoy for 18 summers, stretches across the fields of the farms which stretch infinitely into the horizon with every color you can imagine, depending on the night. It wasn't until recently that I began to truly acknowledge my home for all its beauty.

Anyone who can relate to these feelings at all, I hope that you come across this article and know that you aren't alone. There is a special bond between the son or daughter of a farm and the land where they were raised. I will miss seeing the horses clomping down the dirt roads and I will miss the opportunities to sit outside and listen to the sounds of nature with no artificial additives.

So, to my fellow small-town residents, I hope that you get one last sunset epiphany before we join our fellow eagles. Many things come and go, but home will always be home.