This was Neel's birthday present actually. A winter getaway from the flatlands of marshes, bays and beaches. His care for the ocean is a direct connection of his love for me, he picks the mountains over the continual wash of the waves any day. Me? Don't ask me to choose. I grew up in the Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee, and those rolling hills sing to my soul as much as the sea spray of where we live now. When I was a little girl I yearned to live where I do now, nearly a stone's throw from warm sands and warm water. We treat our beach the way little-girl me treated the mountains of my childhood. A quick trip after work or school. Stop by for a swim or dinner. Sunday morning for a few hours before getting on with the day.
We both miss mountains. Vistas. I have so much to be grateful for, here in the little gray house. The rhythm and clank of neighborhood life. So much that I wouldn't trade. But sometimes I yearn to break away from the chains of suburbia. A little hut on a hill.
We arrived at the beginning of a ferocious windstorm. Did you hear about it on the news? I think Pittsburgh had a wind gust of 92 miles per hour. Holey Moley! The wind howled around our little rented condo and whistled down the fireplace. Throughout that first night, I'd wake up and hear it whistling around the window and think, "We're here! This is so exciting!" and fall back asleep. It was still dark when I got up, but as the sun came up the snow cats came out and started working the slopes.
It was a wonderful trip. Except for the tv, we were totally unplugged, and just together, inside and out. Happy to be there and be together. We learned a lot, actually. Like the fact that we like taking winter trips. We already planning for next year.