A Little Reflection For My Own Sake

It's finally fall, which always makes me slow down and feel wistful. These days, a crisp, clear morning makes me sniff for ripe grapes on the air. I don't smell them now, but fall breezes in Romania were infused with that scent. I miss the walks I had through villages I stayed in, and the end-of-summer evening walks I had through the city when I apartment-sat for a friend.

I've moved again. Maybe this will be my lot in life, always moving. Last night, my chest was heavy with some unknown sadness. My husband could tell that something was a little off, but I couldn't explain it. Maybe it's that longing I've had for years, to be known and to know. I have no friends here, and it's so hard to try again. It makes me empathetic toward MKs I've met who just will not become friends with you, despite your efforts.

Today is nice, though. It's familiar in a wonderful way. My favorite thing--I'm sitting in a coffee shop, writing. It's been a while. It's been a favorite past time for quite a while now, from 929 in Starkville, to the Bean in Sigisoara, to Mid Watch in Bolivar.

There's hope in the way the sun shines today, and the letters as they march across the page, finding the right words. There's hope that I'll be fine until we move, and that I can make myself find time to do things that I enjoy and that fuel my soul.