Well, after 21 or so hours on the road, the northwoods giving way to deciduous trees giving way to prairie giving way to flat scrubland giving way to the Front Range, I'm home. I'm still a little sleepy from my drive yesterday, and Annyong is not quite sure what to do, but it's good to be back.
I needed this, and I feel reenergized in a way I haven't in a long time. This was a good thing, a necessary thing, and although I will keep looking over my shoulder every two minutes to check on a fire that isn't there, my shower last night was the best thing ever. "You mean I didn't have to earn this by a 30-minute drive or six hours of melting snow?"
Here's a post I thought I'd put up, which concerns my last night there. Warning, it's pretty hippy-fied:
Wolves were howling again last night, and because it was my last night, and the moon was big—and yeah, because after cleaning all day I was feeling mawkish and maudlin, I went outside upon hearing them, and I actually howled back. I felt ridiculous, absolutely stupid for doing so—until they answered. This began a five-minute dialogue between me, the wolf to the northwest and the other one due north, and my god, that was, perhaps hands-down, the most amazing and transformative thing that has ever happened to me. My wolf impersonation sucked, first out of embarrassment and then out of amazement, and I'm sure this is why the howling, which had gone on for 20 or so minutes before I went outside, stopped. "Who's this jackass?" they were thinking, no doubt. "Why is he giggling between howls?"
Thanks for reading, all of you who did. And thanks for your support.
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