So I’m stateside trying to type with one hand because the other one is petting my dog. My world is full of “How was it?”s and my mom’s already tired of hearing me say “In France…”

I’m in the mountains and this afternoon I rode a wonderful horse and played wonderful polocrosse. And I came home to a place where there are dinners in the lodge and I can walk in and have a family of kids with stories from the river or stories from the corral or gentle disinterest in why I’ve been gone all summer. I’m in the arms of grown-ups who knew me as a pipsqueak. I’m buying my coffee from the mayor with a baseball cap.

It’s easy to forget that when you leave nice things, there are often nice things waiting for you on the other side.


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