homecoming

I would not be the first person to come back from 14 months in a war zone to some cruel and bitter disappointment.  It happens so often; it's almost cliché.  You come back already disillusioned and discouraged, and then….  But my little house in the canyon was waiting for me- patiently, faithfully- a few glitches, but nothing that could not be remedied. 

It has been colder and grayer than I recall and, while I know there’s no truth in it, the coldness in my heart has been reflected in my surroundings and it seems I have drawn it to me and wrapped myself in it.  Perhaps the spring thaw is just on the horizon.

On the morning of new year’s eve, I woke to the thick and welcome silence of snow.  After 14 months of helicopters, generators, and controlled detonations, in a camp of 3500 other people, that morning I woke to perfect stillness. 

We have started work again on this sweet little house.  We are moving a wall in so I can have a window seat to sit on and watch the birds feed. 

Yesterday we installed the wood stove and I finally have heat.  I will be putting my chainsaw to good use.

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