Moblist Being Home

Sure, I know that its no longer home, but there is always something reassuring about being able to walk back into my room, see the familiar view, and take comfort in the fact that there are still some things from my past that are staying the same. Such as the desk in the corner that has been there since I was in high school, or the phone line that my dad helped me run from the jack in the basement all of the way up to my room so that I could connect my computer to the Internet. The morning after we arrived, I paused at the end of my parents driveway on the way to get their mail. The view of the fields, my grandfathers farm, and the lake has always mesmerized me. Again, it could be because it reminds me so much of my past, but it could also be because now that I live in the Village of Shepherd I dont have this kind of view at the end of my driveway. While I was shoveling, I could hear the ice being shaken off of the tree limbs whenever the wind picked up. I took a photo of one of the apple trees encased in snow and ice.

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