Luminous Woods

A space to breathe. To look into the sky. To let nature fill me up with a good, bright smile.

I love our woods. I've written about this place before. One of the things I love is the ever-changing face these woods present in the different seasons. Winter shocked me the most - with the barren, spiny trees that reached up, disappearing into the sullen skies. Dull and crispy leaves lay their heavy blanket on the cold earthen floor. The creek pools filled black with decomposing fallen leaves.

Somehow, though, just after the daffodils peered their sunny faces up at the end of the stalwart winter, but long after the flowering trees had dropped their blossoms, the woods bellowed out with a vibrant and swift herald. Trees burst forth with thick, luminous green that drew my eyes to the heights. Today, the branches were heavy with freshly fallen rain. I ducked under branches that bent low across the path. The air hung with a cool, refreshing humidity. I heard the stream beside me trickle, then gurgle, then spill, then rush, then tumble into the creek where one neighborhoods hill met another.

It is now when, if you walk quietly enough, you can see a raccoon whisk past and hastily climb a broad oak. And if you look into the trees just a little deeper than normal, you can see the full, white tails of the deer bounding away from the trail. Or stumble upon a box turtle waiting patiently for you to pass so he can continue on his way. Wyatt stops at the tree he knows the raccoon loves and paws at the rocks where the turtle can be found. And Butte pads along behind, happy for another trip into our favorite place.

I love our woods.

The Virginia Life... AKA The New Normal

Having been in Virginia now for just over a month, I feel more established and ready to proceed with the things that are required for Virginia living. It is clear that living here requires me to expand my definition of living a bit. I suppose that's part of the essence of being human... adaptation. Part of this new definition involves living in a completely new area and some of it is based on my new life with Adam.

The New Normal still involves being me and loving the things that I love, but a few changes here and there have made it nice to be here.

* Across the street, we go each night to walk the dog and to see the three baby fawns that lost their mother earlier this week. They are small and quiet and they always stay together. They graze in the empty baseball field just above the wooded nature trail.

* We frequent our favorite restaurant (so far), conveniently 1/3 mile from our house. Kanjana Thai serves a to-die-for Tom Kha soup. A creamy, sweet, spicy, and sour soup with mushrooms, chicken, and coconut milk. Ignoring the fact that the signs for women's and men's bathrooms are slightly inappropriate, it is a beacon of happiness in our neighborhood.

* On Thursdays, a group of seemingly adult 20-somethings with sweat bands across their brow meet under the power lines near our house to engage in epic battles with shields and padded battery sticks. They are the sort that you could imagine engaging in a life of video game challenges. Some of them have the ultimate weapon... a sort of stick with a padded ball at the end of a rope. A medieval flail it is called. The ice cream man always stops by to watch and to pad his wallet. It's entertainment.

* A beautiful new television sits mostly off. It's nice, actually. We don't have cable and have been able to spend more time with fitness and making wedding preparations and just sharing our new life together.

* Starting a new life with Adam has encouraged me to bump up the responsibility I accept for my own life. I am staying on top of bills and have actually attended doctor's appointments for me and for Wyatt. Strange that I am almost 32 and it took moving here to accomplish that.

* I haven't rushed here. In Colorado, my life was full of responsibilities and commitments. I rushed from one thing to the next with barely any time to be intentional about my actions or words. My main concern was just getting everything done. Here, I can even take time to plan meals and to cook. The new normal involves having a shelf in my refrigerator which holds everything that we want to eat soon before it spoils. Some might call it Type A. I just call it a refreshing new way to organize. I've even bathed my dog twice this month.

* I was told when I moved here, I would spend time talking about the best way to get somewhere. Boy, is that true! I take one way to work and a different way home from work to try to avoid the ever-so-dreaded and frightfully common traffic backup.

* Checking the weather has never been so important to me as it is here. I change my plans based on the heat. Heat almost never prevented me from what I wanted to do in Colorado. Here, the new normal includes following the heat's advice of when to come outside and when to just hole up inside.

These are just some of the wonderful things involved in our new life in Virginia. I am excited to add to it. It's a beautiful life.

Home

I've always been enamored by the thought of "home".

You know how musicians create moments of tension... dissonance? It's that moment that harmonies clash. The balance between this dissonance and a more stable consonance is one of the things that makes music so intriguing. The resolution of that conflict is gorgeous. This is how I feel about home. All the challenges of the day have been fought - the unchosen strife or self-imposed contests, and home is the place where all is resolved. You are comfortable and nourished. You have a cozy place to rest and loved ones close by.

I have been in Virginia now for a week. The food is exceptional. I love it that chain restaurants are in the minority. I love the rivers and bays that are so close by. I love the history of the area and the wonderful patriotism. There are good things and so many more to discover. I remember the first time Adam I took the metro to King Street. It was wonderful... drizzly with the streets lit up so beautifully. Delicious crab cakes and brews at a local tavern with live bluegrass. Lovely.

Now, Colorado. It's hard not to be sad about having left. In Colorado, there is something called fresh air that I miss very much. I can't quite figure it out, but Virginia smells different. Maybe it is the humidity or the lush trees. All I can say is that I would pay money every day to breathe the cool, dry, piney air of Colorado.

The roads here are different, too. Very few roads run just two cardinal directions. Most go north and south in certain places and east and west in others. Many change names multiple times and when you think a road might have ended, you just take a left and pick it back up a quarter mile or so down the road. Often, you will turn off of a road to stay on it. In Colorado, for the most part, there is one main way that you would take to get somewhere. Here, there are three or four main ways you could get somewhere and another five alternate routes you could take and all of those will be congested. I do love the trees here. They are everywhere. But this also means that most of the roadways look the same. Unless there is a building right up along the road, you can pretty much guarantee that trees will obscure it all. It makes it that much harder to navigate.

Last, the Colorado music scene is incredible. I don't think I realized this until I left. Especially summer. You can guarantee Colorado will be packed with amazing artists all summer long. Here, there are lots of venues, but a different type of musician comes here. I miss it. Lots.

It doesn't feel like home yet. I don't think it ever will. Regardless, I will eat up every minute of this place, loving it as much as I can until I leave.

DC Adventure Begins

Well, we made it 1,691 miles across the country driving a 16-foot moving van and pulling our very Colorado blue Subaru behind. There was no mistaking us for any mid-western city folk. We had three pairs of skis in the ski rack and two pretty rocking mountain bikes hanging off the back. There was no doubt. We are from Colorado.

This has been a huge mix of emotion for me. I am leaving everything. Everything except Adam. Because of this, there is a pile of excitement, a bushel of sadness, and a boatload of nervous expectation. It's hard to anticipate what any new experience will do with my psyche. I jumped in the Subaru as we pulled into Virginia - Adam driving the van as we left the car trailer behind in Frederick, MD.
I was super excited to change the clock in the Soob to eastern time and I scrolled through the radio stations to program the very best of 80's hits and bluegrass and classic rock. I didn't find a suitable KBCO substitute... yet. Nor will I, I imagine. This whole suiting-the-car-up-for-Virginia-living had a positive vibe to it.


Adam and I pulled into town, drove through the new neighborhood, met with our landlord, and headed out to find what we may decide to call our little corner of town. We jumped on the Metro (I say that cautiously... everything new takes precision and thoughtfulness)and decided to get off at King Street. The delicate white lights adorning the trees called us off the train. In fact, we passed the stop and came back to it because it was so appealing. We wandered down the puddle-patterned streets until we hit Tiffany Tavern. We'd read about it in the Lonely Planet guide to Washington, DC and decided to duck inside to have fish and chips and a crabcake sandwich. We were not let down. A small six-piece bluegrass band was set up at the front. The bar was filled with lone business travelers and east coast locals. The bricks and dark wooden beams showed all of the building's 120 years.
I ordered a Smithwick's, which I found out later at seedy little O'Shaugnessy's is correctly prounounced Smiddick's. It truly was a delightful way to spend our first night in DC. But for whatever reason, perhaps it was the familiar hum of bluegrass or the feeling of miles between me and my home, I got choked up. That's the polite way to say I pretty much bawled. It wasn't anything in particular I was thinking of... other than that I'm leaving my Colorado home. My quirky family, my unforgettable friends, my altitude, my microbrews, my raindrops on sunny days, my piles of snow, my abrupt Spring and Fall, my job, my students, my ski seasons, my mountain towns, my simple transit. Everything. Of course I will miss the Colorado people I love the most... my pillars of strength and my blankets of comfort.

I know there will be more adventures to have and more places to love and more friends to laugh with. But it's not that easy. You got to let go of allllllll of that awesomeness and bankrupt yourself for a little bit until you've got a little start to a foundation in a new place. I am not excited about that. I am excited, however, to start a life with the man I love. I am excited to learn a new place with him and to dream up new dreams and find ourselves in wonderful new places. We are lucky to have found each other and I can't wait to spend my days with him.