We're home from a whirlwind trip to Virginia. It was beyond good to be home. The mountains were so green with new leafiness and dotted with blossoms of redbud and dogwood. The air was a-swirling with pollens that coated the camera lens as soon as we uncovered it. Camden and I were sneezing and teary-eyed, but it was worth it. It was all worth it.
We rode Amtrak from right here in Windsor to Lynchburg, Va. Our train boarded at 7:30 a.m. and arrived an hour later in New Haven where we sat for a couple of hours before the Northeast Regional departed. It was so crowded in New Haven that we couldn't even sit together till a swarm of spring-breakers departed in New York City. That's when we found some seats together and remained till 8:30 when Curt's sister picked us up and drove us an hour west to Roanoke. Just being in Lynchburg was good enough. Being in Roanoke, our home for 13 years, was the best.
Mill Mountain Zoo was near the top of our list of places to go. I remember a lot of prairie dogs the last time I was there. This time, we saw two. Perhaps the rest were sleeping.
This is a lynx. He growled and snarled and hissed every time Camden and Benjy talked to him. I don't blame him. I sometimes do the same.
This is a statue that we believe is a tribute to Ruby the Siberian tiger who passed away five years ago. Ruby was a star attraction to the little zoo in the Star City. We missed her on this day. The only signage for this statue says it's for children only and names the people whose contribution made it possible. I remember the children only part. That's all.
These mountains practically hug you! Their embrace tells me I'm home. I'm safe. I'm where I belong. We're praying that God will lead us back here. Until then, we will embrace all God has for us here in New England.
This shot was taken from behind the flowers on Dad's grave looking toward Mom sitting by Michelle's. I will never understand why both my sister and father died within 18 months of each other. But I live in peace knowing that God has it all in his mighty hands. I will see each of them again because they were His. Of this, I am sure.
Here is sweet Benjy putting a sprig of dogwood on his grandaddy's grave.Right after this, he ran and ran and ran throughout the cemetery. Who can blame him? I used to play tag in cemeteries after dark with tombstones. Not the smartest thing I ever did.
Did I say how beautiful the dogwoods were? Bloom after bloom after bloom.
No matter what I said, I couldn't sync these boys in smile mode.And the boys' hair moans of bed-head.
And too, Benjy has toothpaste all over his shirt.
And here we are, going home. Home to Connecticut. Even though Roanoke will always be home.
