Mountain Musings Part 2

We drove into the mountains Friday night.

Not very far - just to Florence, Kentucky. It's a sizeable enough city, but you miss it if you're not looking for it. You just assume it's the back half of the Cincinnati skyline. 

And on the way in, through the storm clouds, I wondered about the magic in the mountains. 

(Sidebar: There really is some magic. After a much too busy week, my itchy fingers wanted to play with beads and wire. So on a whim, while Paul drove and we jammed out to Train and Matchbox 20, I made a half dozen pairs of earrings. It's the magic, I think.)

I'm calling these - Christina Aguilera at Woodstock

But Paul and I were talking on the way in. As we start to drive over the swells in the roads, and you can't quite see what's over the horizon anymore, my soul takes a deep, deep breath. And, I find this to be unique to the Appalachian Mountains, in the mountains, the land is moving. And this moving slows me down. The rise and fall, the clarity of the air, it pulls you in, settles you.

I can't take credit for this one...stole it off a travel blog.

Which seems odd - unless you travel back out within a few days. There's one last swell on 69 N...the car goes up, over and lands with a thud on the flat, flat ground. Which is finally green (thank goodness) and tilled for planting. It looks alive, but it is flat.

And I always feel like an elephant just sat on my chest. Unnerved, like my skin doesn't quite fit. I'm in such a still, silent place that I feel the need to gain speed, hurry up, and move. Move where? I'm not sure. Out? Through? Motion seems to silence the awkward feeling.

Funny how much the landscape affects our perception of home, hm? Where feels like home for you?

*This was our second trip to Kentucky this month. To read Mountain Musings part one, click here. *