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Missed mountains

I've missed mountains. Even the brown, dried-out ones, ringing the horizon, clarifying the direction of north, stretching up to hold on to the sun in the morning, welcoming the sun in the evening.

The dry heat leaves chapped lips, raw sinuses, endless thirst.

Occupying strangers' spaces is jarring.

The nephew (3) and niece (8 months) leave little time for reflection, nor are they yet conversationalists - the trap of early parenthood, where people crave adult conversation. Glimpses of a different lifestyle, one that is simultaneously familiar and so distantly alien that I can hardly fathom its connections to mine (People can actually buy houses and have children? Home life is a stable experience?).

Tomorrow I will meet with strangers, that awkward academic experience where introverts strain to engage with each other and exude likeability but not arrogance. All these years later and I'm back to "CC's little sister," once again.

I'm moving at the end of the year, again, to a new city and state where I only know two people, total. I will find a place to live, again, by myself. At least any grass will be dead and covered by snow for part of the year. Living with J, K, and B, I've observed my willingness to do every chore except the lawnmowing.

C&J have removed all but a postage-stamp of grass, in favor of a xeriscaped front yard; fruit trees, raised vegetable beds, and chicken-yard in the back.

Comments

( 1 remark — Remark )
(Anonymous)
Oct. 9th, 2014 03:33 pm (UTC)
missed mountains
Wonderful observations, striking images. My heart goes out to you.
Love,
Dad
( 1 remark — Remark )

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