It's a funny thing, moving away from all that's familiar to a place where things are seemingly the same and yet...aren't.. I mean, Michigan is part of the United States of America, as is Oregon. And yet Michigan is so different. The air is different. The terrain is different. The architecture is different. The roads are different. There aren't potholes back here...there are teeth-jarring craters in the road at the end of winter you quickly learn to dodge if you don't want your front end knocked out of alignment every time you drive to the grocery store. Life doesn't stop back here when it's 5 degrees outside. Babies and toddlers are swaddled up to their eyeballs in parkas and caps and mittens and boots. I have not seen one feral cat. In fact, outside of a neighbor's cat I spy every now and then sitting on a table looking out the window, the only other cat I've seen was one dead by the side of the road a few weeks back. Today is April 5th...the sun is shining...and yet flurries of snowflakes were falling in the sunlight. I thought they were cherry blossoms until I realized there aren't any trees in blossom here yet.
I have visual memories that will come to me every now and then during the day. Like on Sunday when Dear Hubby and I walked all the way over to Farmington Road and I said to him I was almost more tired walking 4-5 miles of flat streets than I was when we walked to the top of Mt. Tabor. And then I pictured the beauty of Mt. Tabor -- pictured above -- and the vista of downtown Portland from the western side, and the majestic beauty of Mount Hood from the eastern side. And I could see it crystal clear in my mind's eye, the many mornings we'd trudge up there around daylight or on a warm summer evening. It's a moment's memory like that that will jar my heart. And I'm not sure if I miss it. I haven't had a moment of homesickness yet. And yet a moment's memory will make me feel...unsettled. I guess where I'm at right now is somewhere between finishing pulling all the roots up before planting them down deep in new soil. The work is being done but I've yet to experience the harvest.
I love my new home. I love my new town. I love my new state. I feel welcome here. I am not lonely here. I am at peace here.
It is amazing how quickly we humans adjust, how quickly the unfamiliar becomes familiar. How I wake up in the middle of the nite and know that I'm home already. I am not lost.