We changed spaces over a year ago, leaving behind the hot climate and returning to a region where we have grown new roots. The seasons change here, and as I write this, we are greeting the transition from summer to fall with relief and joy. The leaves are just beginning to change and we have finally received some much needed rain after a summer of moderate drought. The air has also been cool enough to light our fireplace, creating a cozy atmosphere for the morning meeting of the writer’s group. All of us are natives of the New England region whose lives brought us to this beautiful mountain valley. We are old enough to have lots of life stories to tell, and after nearly a year of being together, have formed a tight- knit group. One of my life’s dreams has been fulfilled as a result of us coming together and my creative juices have been flowing for some time now. I have learned to journal long hand, and am also learning that keeping one is like having a treasure box of words from which I can create stories and poems.
Our time is spent hiking. The mountains and their trails are easily reached by foot. Others are just a few minutes away. And still more keep a place in the notches nearby. On the day we were nearing our destination, we traveled through one of them and I spontaneously burst into tears, relieved and knowing that I was finally “home”.
Running here is challenging with the many long hills. Still, I get to see one of the nearby ledges in all its glory and as I descend the hill and turn the corner, I am in full view of one of the more challenging mountains in the valley. It’s pretty peaceful here. Travelers come and go depending upon the season and the locals learn to duck around the areas they flock to and seek the places they know nothing about.
Soon the days of sitting on the deck sipping my morning coffee (and reading the news with the usual shudder) will be put on hold. Until then, I raise my mug to the sunrise and say “Good morning.”