I do a lot of complaining about certain parts of my life in the country. Namely—all the spiders.
When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up and move someplace more exciting. Maybe a big city. Maybe a big city near the BEACH.
What did I do, instead? I bought the house I grew up in, and settled into a life framed by memories of my own childhood. We’ve made upgrades, but the soul of this home has been with me most of my life.
When I wake up on a chilly fall day and look out onto a scene like this, I remember why I’m here. It’s gorgeous, and it’s home.
I wonder how my life might be different if I had moved to that big city. I’m certainly not as adventurous as I once thought I would be, and that’s okay with me.
I’m right where I’m supposed to be.