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Today’s run started out damp. Nothing fell from the sky, but nothing dried out, either. I looked up and spied a tangerine moon sliver in a charcoal gray expanse. Our new house is in the middle of a hillside, so I’m finding new distances to run up and down to get mileage in. Truth be told, I’m still building back up after pulling some muscle in my right leg.

We’re finding our rhythm here. Most of our worldly possessions sit in a metal box on site. The rest are squirreled away in bedrooms, the basement, or other handy nooks. The cats have acclimated. The first day, they hid and peeked out at everyone. They didn’t know what to make of their new digs. Now, they have the run of the house, loving the extra hands to pet them. Chloe even ventured outside today. Rex has yet to dare.

Shelton in February seems a mushroom world, filled with moss and slimy dead leaves and lots of gray.The air is sometimes a pale smoke against the darkest green trees in the early morning and twilight. Shreds of mist linger among branches. Rain falls at random times to sustain this universe.

We’re finally starting to catch our breath from the move. It’s a blessing to be here, in this house, with my dad and stepmom, for such a time as this. This season will give way to another, then another. But I don’t want to miss this. I look out at the mammoth cedars surrounding us and thank God for all His blessings.

 

 

 

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