It is night for coffee shops. There is an early fall chill to the air outside my window. For the first time in a long, long time, I have nothing on my schedule and my heart is seeking warmth and solitude. There is no better place for me tonight than this quiet table and my mug of coffee, writing a much needed update by lamplight, enveloped by rich, red walls and classical music.
Blogging, like most things, fell victim these last couple months to the final stretch of my Master's degree, which I officially finished on September 19th. It was a time for pushing much aside so that I could git 'er done. And now she's done, and I am breathing in the sweet relief that comes with time to write. Time to read. Hours for driving into the mountains to soak in the yellows and reds of fall. The latter of these is how Richard and I spent the day yesterday, eyes wide and jaws agape as the road brought us corner by corner to new vistas and blazing groves of Aspens. Incredible, this seaon.
It is a season of change not only for the leaves, of course, and moreso for me than has been the case in the past couple years. Earlier this week, I accepted a job working with the homeless in Glenwood Springs, CO--my hometown. Two weeks from today, I will pull away from this place I have grown to love and drive toward a new stage in my life. I'm full of the usual mix of emotions: a touch of confusion, a dose of sadness, a dash of excitment. The feelings come on at the strangest times. Last night I started bawling while watching Curious George. Seriously.
My thoughts are many these days, and I am excited for the time ahead, a season where I can sit to share them here. A strange new place in life where a night for coffee shops doesn't also have to be a night for homework. I look forward to our conversations there.