For the last week or so, ever since we found out we might be moving (only to have those hopes dashed by week’s end), I’ve been waxing nostalgic about our home. Not the house itself, which I’d be happy to vacate at any time, but the city and state surrounding it.
I love where we live now. And I’m torn because I want nothing more than for my husband to get a job–wherever he can get one–and leave this place behind. The other day, I was driving (which I do a lot for work) and I started thinking about the next place we live. How it probably won’t have mountains, and how much I’ll miss them.
The mountains here turn pink at sunset. (Pink!) And I love how they change in the changing light. I have hiked them, driven to the top, taken photos of the city–my city–from the peak, and admired them from afar. I have watched for their silhouette on long drives home. I have lived here for ten years, and yet, I feel like I haven’t spent enough time with my mountains.
And there are other things I’ll miss. The skies here are enormous and almost always blue. There is sunshine all year round. Every year, in late fall, cranes migrate and spend their days hanging out in a large field I often pass to and from my home visits. This fall may be the last time I get to wave hello to them from my car. It may be the last fall I drive over a river of gold. Or wake up to brightly-colored hot air balloons dotting the sky.
Fall is such a special season here. It’s the time of year when our most popular crop is harvested and roasted. Just the smell of it roasting makes my mouth water. The food here. Oh my gawd, the food. It’s both the style of cooking and the ingredients that are unique to this area. And, again, I feel like I haven’t eaten nearly enough of it because Hubby’s not a fan. And because, well, how could I possibly get enough?
Regardless of the season, I’ll miss my friends. Sincerity and I finally have the writing group we’ve always wanted, and I just know I’ll be leaving it soon. Too soon.
I’ll even miss my RE, with his confidence and sky-high stats.
Of course, there are things I won’t miss. Like work. Yes, I know I’ll have to get another job somewhere, but I feel ready to leave my current employer. Even that isn’t so simple, though. There are families and coworkers I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to.
I feel rushed now. To take it all in. To complete our first round of fertility treatments. To spend all the quality time I can with my friends and my food and my mountains. Before I have to leave them.