September 3, 2016

Treehouse

We are now in our new home. We left the city and moved down south. Our first night here something so strange happened: it was quiet. So quiet we could just hear the humming crickets and rustling trees. Not like Capitol Hill with the city lights and the noises of people passin' and talking late into the night. The cars whizzing by, ambulances blaring. The Capitol building is lit the entire night. It's never truly dark there. But here it is dark, really dark! It's just different. 
And it's also quite peaceful. Restful. Relaxing. It's 5:16pm on Friday. It's early September and is turning from summer to fall out there. I sneak upstairs to begin dinner and just sit and listen, so still. The trees are blowin' loudly. Nothing else. Not even a lawn mower. Out ever single window in our house is mountains and trees. Birds and sky. It reminds me of the woods and ever since I lived in Flagstaff, I've always felt I belong in the woods. 











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