The tears started when I planned to donate my field guides of the Pacific Northwest and Olympic National Park. How can I move so far away from my beloved Olympic green mountains and coastal rainforest? How can I truly move back to Upstate New York?
I have to let myself grieve. Although I trust the spirit I am following, I am sad. Although I love the job I am leaving, I am sad. But, although I am doing a hard thing, I am going. And I am sad.
So, its good to cry when things change.
This move has been brewing for many years. I long for music of the crickets at night, the cicadas at noon. I yearn for the taste of winter on the wind and the crack of summer thunder. I ache for the silence of remote graveyards; the sunset over distant hills. I crave New York.
Home. I am going home. The home I didn't want to leave for the life I had to live. I can go back now; it's time.
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