We closed on our new home in early August, moved our stuff in, then turned around and went on two long-before-scheduled camping trips with friends and a road trip to the Minneapolis area to visit my family.
We are so DONE, guys. Done with summer travel. Done with DVDs in the car and graham crackers on the floorboards.
I’m even done with s’mores.
We are all good and ready to be home, to settle into routines during the day and cozy up by the just-dug firepit in the evenings (with big bowls of popcorn, of course).
This morning, my old pup and I went out for our first run on our new stomping grounds, and had the chance to really see and hear and smell the roads and woods the way one only can on foot. It was fun to explore the new area — to make a mental list of all the paths I hope to investigate.
We’ve been getting to know our land day by day — the banks of the river, the woods at the end of our property. We’re familiar, now, with the bracken fern on the forest floor, the birdsongs from the canopy above, patterns of stone beneath the surface.
In the mornings, we have coffee in the sunroom, watching the whitetail deer and wild turkeys skirt the edge of our yard. It seems we take turns keeping watch, often asking one another upon entering the room, “Any critters yet this morning?”
I hope this never gets old — the excitement of being close to woods and water, sharing space with forest animals, tracking burs and grass and mud into our home.
I hope I never stop looking out the kitchen window and up the bend in the river to see if anyone is fishing at the Sucker Hole.
I know we’ll get used to being here, but I hope to always remember the energy and awe of our first morning here. How still I held my body when the deer tiptoed into the yard…
How the chickadee held that seed in his beak and tapped it against the wooden post…
How goofy that turkey looked creeping up to steal the seeds from below the bird feeder…
I hope I remember the excitement in the boys’ voices when they noticed the wildlife too.
The wooly worm.
The snapping turtle.
And I hope I remember the shrieks and giggles when the toad peed all over Reed’s foot.
We’ve got a lot to do around here before things are just the way we want them. The walls are bare. The floors need a facelift. The shower was designed for hobbits.
People, there’s bright green Astroturf covering my deck…
But sometimes, despite all the quirks –maybe even because of the quirks, a place can feel like home when you’ve only just showed up. I think everyone in my family would agree that from the very first morning, this place was home. ❤
If you enjoyed this post, read more personal essay here.
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