I was reading a good autobiography yesterday: Shades of Gray: Memoirs of a Prussian Saint on the Eastern Front. It was gripping. I was thoroughly engrossed in the author's struggle to survive the fall of Stalingrad as I rode the bus home from work.
As we entered town I looked up with a start: there were no mountains. Suddenly I was in upstate New York. The afternoon was bright, with heavy cloud cover. The clouds were high, but apparently low enough that no mountains were visible. At all. It looked like a typically overcast day in the suburbs of Rochester.
The lack of a mountainous back-drop changed the entire feel of the town where I live. I was comfortably at home, a feeling over ten years in manifesting itself. It was a fun change of pace.
As the clouds lifted so did the home-like impressions.
Thankfully her love for me provides a home where ever we live.
No comments:
Post a Comment