a year of happy: January 2010

Yesterday, there was a beautiful post
over at Shutter Sisters
called Home Sweet Home.

At the end, Eleaca asks,
"What makes where you live Home?"

I thought about this question
all day yesterday.

I thought about it
in a lot of different ways.

Close up,
home is where my people are.
I'm home
whenever and wherever I'm with
my family--D and the kids
and now their spouses
and that sweet grandson!

But when I step outside,
home is these mountains.
.

.
.

I walk out my door,
and every way I look
I see mountains.

The top picture
is north.
And to the east,
this beautiful mountain
towers over us.

.
When I travel,
I miss the mountains,
and they are the first thing
I look for when I return.

They tell me I've come home.
They also tell me direction,
and I'm always
very turned around
when I leave!

A few years ago,
I learned just how much
the mountains mean to me.

After the tragic death of a dear friend,
my sister and I
took a few days off
to get away from it all.
We decided to stay at a lodge
at a nearby ski resort.

It was summer,
so it was a quiet get-away.

I think I just wanted to rest
and think and grieve.
But what happened
was amazing.

Our room had a balcony
with a view
unlike anything
I've seen before.

The mountains literally
filled up the space--
you could almost
reach out and touch them.

We kept thinking we should
get out and do something...
hike, ride the tram, shop.
But that's not
what I needed.

We ended up sitting on that balcony
looking at the mountains
for three days straight.

We watched the sun and shadows
dance across the scene.
We saw the mountain's moods
in the morning, the afternoon,
and well into the night.

It was peace and tranquility,
and at the end of it,
my hurting heart was healed.

I now call it mountain therapy.

It's another reason
these mountains
are home to me.