Things have changed around here.
In the mornings, I wake with the cool breeze rolling off the lake, weaving through tall grasses and brushing against birds singing their greetings. The sun crests between the bend of two leafy trees.
The lake ripples in the morning air.
At the end of March, Jacob and I sleepily climbed aboard our local Amtrak train at a little past two in the morning.
This was the first time either of us had traveled a long distance by train, and I know we’re both very interested in taking Amtrak again. The rocking of the train lulled us both to sleep quickly after we boarded and the space in coach seating was unbelievable: easily three airplane rows worth of space in one train row!
The breakfast, while not cheap, was good and filling. And unlike with air travel, we were able to bring lunch and bottled water on board with us. The spacious lounge car provided the perfect spot for our lunchtime picnic and a lazy afternoon spent watching the land roll by.
The first night, we explored Albuquerque’s Old Town at dusk, followed by another full day in Albuquerque and a full day in Santa Fe.
I find myself thinking of my grandfather lately.
After several false starts and sputters, Winter has officially blown in.
I opened the back door this morning and found a fine layer of sleet and ice covering everything in sight. The wood pile that I forgot to bring in last night: glittering; the red grill: icicles dripping from the lid; the stair railings: slick and shiny in the morning light. Spindly limbs of the burning bush at the foot of the deck droop heavy with the first offerings of, what feels like, an already long winter.