red dot little duck

It used to be my ritual to call in sick the first day the snow fell. At least I always tried my damnedest to find myself next to a huge window with a good view and a hot cup of tea. A time to sit back and revel in the beauty, the simplicity, the purity of those white fluffy flakes. So simple. I’ve been trying to prepare myself for a full-on Philly winter. Full-on meaning months of cold grey concrete. Already daydreaming of the mountains. Ice cold, crisp, clean air over the Montana landscape. Home.

A few days ago I saw the first falling snow outside the window of AYS. Just a little flurry but it brought a serious joy into my heart. Overwhelmed, for a brief moment, by memories of family, friends… holidays. Today I took the picture above while sitting outside enjoying a cup of coffee with a good friend. So far, so good.

It’s kind of unbelievable that Thanksgiving is next week. I mean, how is it that I got here, to this place? How is it that faith can be so fluid? That impermanence can be so permanent? How is it that it doesn’t seem to matter that much? How is it that I can wake up two years after quitting my job in pursuit of something I love and believe in, and feel as if ten years have been logged into my psyche? And I still have to remind myself that I’m an adult.

In any case, here I am. Here we are. And next week, it’s Thanksgiving.