I have begun to have a very intense longing for home – the smell of fresh pine trees and mountain air, the familiar tree-lined streets you drive down hundreds of times to your favorite local lunch spot – where, cliché as it may be, everybody really does know your name. Long bike rides down deserted roads at dusk, the feel of a cozy blanket over the cold grass at the festival. The smell of a crackling bonfire on the beach mixed with the fresh breeze coming off the lake and the yeasty tang of cold beer. Nights out-on-the-town with family and friends that start with the world’s most amazing pizza (2nd Avenue, hands down) and you finish it off right, enjoying a leisurely visit and cold glass(es) of wine at the Coldwater Creek wine bar. Sigh…maybe it was the series of traumatic events so far away from home, or maybe I am just mellowing in my old age, but I have found myself longing lately for the quiet simplicity of the small town life and the sweet memories of friends of family in the Northwest. At the least, a visit is definitely in order.
Images via Pinterest.