This is representative of what keeps me here.

This is the way I wake up, here on the hill. At five in the morning, the sky is dark gray and perhaps there is still a star blinking up there, but the grey of dawn is already evident. Around six, or a little later, all of a sudden the sun hits the tips of the highest trees and bright gold shines into the window. Then you can just stay quiet and watch the black shadows recede down and make more room for the gold until the bright light hits the grass at the bottom and the day has irrevocably begun.

This is representative of what keeps me here.

Our hurricane shelter in Goldsboro does not offer any such beauty from the bedroom or from anywhere else.There used to be a window back into the yard, but it was usurped by the walk-in closet for the previous mistress of the house. As useful as it is, this, and the shadows from the sunroom on the south side--the small windows of the sunroom and the living room window so very sheltered under the northern porch--the lack of light and of air and of openness is what makes me almost dread to return south. Yet I will come. I'm looking forward to the time on the deck with a fire burning in the bowl and life all around.

Until then... May peace be with you all.