One of the first things I noticed when we moved to the mountains was that the sky was a little more blue.
“Maybe it’s just me, and this may sound weird, but do the blues seem bluer here? The greens just a little greener?” I asked my husband.
Then spring hit, slowly at first but then the green was everywhere. The dogwoods stayed in bloom for nearly a month, the roses started unfurling from their buds and now the heady scent of honeysuckle is strong in the air and it pours in through open windows.
My daughter loves the outdoors. When we walk up to my in-laws house (which is up a hill and a long and windy driveway) she is always on the lookout for rabbits and quite often finds them. We see birds and groundhogs, and occasionally deer, and our new next door neighbors are three horses. I never would have believed that we would really be living in the country like this, I always thought it was in our distant future, but then all of the sudden we moved and moved again and find ourselves on my husband’s family land. Removed from restaurants and stores and well-known banks, we are trading shopping and dining opportunities for the chance to take on a simpler kind of life.
So we start over. Taking advantage of being symbolic with springtime and moving up here when everything renews itself, we renew ourselves too.