A week ago, we arrived and I sit here on the cushy maroon sofa, in the comfort of our "temporary home" feeling like a visitor. I hear the roar and then the vibration as "the fun car" approaches and parks beneath me. I hear the door close and all is quiet and still again. Except for the hum of the fan and the swish, swish of the ice maker. I look out amongst the board games, the unmade bed, the blankee and clothes that litter the floor. Surrounded by familiar things, yet, I sit here taking it all in. The realization that we are here refuses to sink in.
Not even on the ride. I didn't look in the rear view mirror. I kept my eyes on the road ahead. Looking back always grabs me and tries to hold on tightly. Looking back throws me into the past or the what could-of been. No, we are here, in the present. And still, I just don't believe it.
Our life here in the Midwest has begun. Our kids are registered for school, practicing on the junior high team, we're helping out with church events. We are plugging in. And yet, it still feels like we're on vacation, just visiting. Perhaps it's because most of our belongings are still on the east coast. It's just so surreal and at times, we're still thinking we're crazy for doing it.
I drive past the cornfields, dreaming of photographing the setting sun laying down amongst the tall green stalks and the giant blades of the wind turbines continually turning against the big blue sky. I look out at the vastness of this place and it feels like Arizona (except with grass). We adored the desert. Maybe this is our Arizona?
The mornings are crisp and the breeze constantly blowing. Already the water in the pool is too chilly to get in. Fall stands at the corner and whispers. It makes me weary of what we're up against this winter. I have a fondness for certain moments in every season. Like when Fall can be sensed in the air. The scent of changing leaves, preparing to make their decent. The point when you begin layering with a sweat shirt and slip on jeans for added measure. Where coffee and hot chocolate taste best when sipped on a porch while rocking and discussing the insignificant details of life.
Yes, I'm sure I'll be in for a surprise this winter. I'm no fan of the cold, never have been. It's public knowledge. So, I expect I'll be trying out tons of new soup and chili recipes, but I won't count my chickens before they've hatched. Winter will not kick my butt before it's officially here and sooner or later I'll feel settled. Nonetheless, we're staying until we've been told otherwise.