mountains.

Our marriage retreat was in Asheville.

Hands down one of the prettiest towns I’ve ever visited.

And we stayed at The Grove Park Inn.

A gorgeous old-fashioned one hundred year old rock beauty.

The view from our room was spectacular.

When I’m in the mountains,

I don’t want to be anywhere else.

And

what I want

more than anything

is to never leave.

To stay stay stay.

And I get sort of frantic

the very second I arrive.

Breathe in.

Look around.

Feel that cozy safety of the ensconcing hillsides.

Because

immediately

I begin to think of being forced to leave.

The tearing away.

The mountains in my rear view window.

I am so grateful to live within driving distance.

I don’t believe I could handle anything less.

It’s why my suburban heads north more than south.

And why I know I am a Mountain Girl

at heart.

It’s home.

Hemmed in.

Eyes resting.

Satisfying.

h.o.m.e.

Mountains.

After a trip to the mountains

it can take me days to recover,

to be satisfied,

to fnd peace

and force contentment.

The hint of a mountain from our front porch is balm.

It is Enough For Now.

And I’m far from ungrateful.

Goodness – the front porch alone was enough for me to say “yes – I’ll live in a one hundred plus year old house with broken windows.  Pass me the lease!”

So don’t get me wrong.

But you can be satisfied and still long for more,

can’t you?

And I don’t know how to tell my heart not to find peace in a view.

I don’t plan on trying.

I’ll just keep driving,

keep camping,

keep heading North and breathing deeply.