We spent another peaceful summer in the Rockies and returned home happy and replenished from our five weeks there. I always dread leaving a little bit – it so beautiful and wholesome there; any place else seems tarnished in comparison – but then we get home and it feels right to be back. There may be no sky like the Great Western Sky, but if I go for a run in the hills five minutes from our little apartment and catch a glimpse of our city between the trees, and beyond the red tile roofs and church towers, there stand the first small Dolomites, I think hey, look at that, can you believe this is your home? A place as foreign and as beautiful as all that?
And in this way it often seems to me that I have managed to stitch together the best of many different worlds. Since this past winter the feeling that I am so fortunate to have this life, these boys, this family and these friends, these beautiful places to call home has grown and grown, and the only time I can remember ever feeling quite so content and quite so fortunate was at the tail end of winter 2011, when spring was budding in the green hills where we lived just outside this town.
How things change, how boys grow! How humbling to realize that the things I was so worried about, so sure would be the ruin of us all, turned out to be the very best part and what made everything else all worthwhile.