The sun has sunk low into the tree lined hills of this countryside, the effervescent pastels floating up into the clean dusk sky. I have been home now for two days in the peace and quiet - driving down green canopied backroads, cooking for my family, gathering harvest from the trees and plants that give so willingly. This is the longest I’ve spent out here in over six months - and as I listen to the mix of background noise of the show my dad is watching and the old dusty kitchen ceiling fan, there is no place I’d rather be.
There is much to love about the city - but sometimes the hustle and bustle seems so pointless, stifling, redundant. Sometimes I sit on my little back stoop, drinking a beer after work in my want to be treehouse, and I wonder what it is actually I am doing there. It is about then that I escape north - where life slows down to half speed. Out here in the open I can breathe big, deep inhales that smell of grass, and fruit trees, and old towering evergreens. I can hear my own thoughts, and my dreams don’t seem so - weighed down by the every day happenings. Out here there are people that love and appreciate me - the ones that have known me the longest - what I would do without them… I have no idea.
So I’ve read dozens of pages, drank black coffee early in the morning listening to the birds, and learned how to make jam. I’ve fed my family, had long lingering talks with my parents, and floated off into a daze. And here we are - only half way through, and I’m still hoping I can find a way to stay longer. But that’s the way it goes, isn’t it - vacation slips away like water through fingers. The long dog days of summer speed past us, when the cold damp ones seem to linger, but perhaps because summer gives us a reminder, a fresh perspective of new life and gratitude. We pack it to the gills with adventure because we feel so blissfully alive and couldn’t think of missing a moment of it.
There is no looking back now, only onward with pure thankfulness for what is, what was, and what’s coming. Like the last of the long warm nights, end of season harvest, and the glorious smell that fall is coming as the wind changes course and the trees put on their new dress and we mark another great summer on the books.