Being back east is being back home. I was so longing for this, missing it all with an aching heart.
Something about these trees, this land, this earth-- it grounds me. It moves and carries me.
I shake when the wind whips the limbs of these trees. I am fed by this rain. My body echoes the curves of these hills, these mountains upon which I rest.
I am enchanted with every bird's song, every rustle of the leaves, with the dew drops that glitter like rock crystal in the sunlight.
As this land reveals itself to me, I only long for more of it.
This is where I must always return.