Everything is moving so fast for us this Spring. Spoleto is around the corner for Tasha, it’s major grant writing season for me at work, Hugh is immersed in daily Montessori along with Kindermusik, soccer and karate, Dowell is living at home with us until the fall while working and saving money for college, and Tasha and I are planning our first real trip abroad together to France and Italy – leaving on June 27.
It makes the time I spend in my head very limited, which is maybe why I wake up so frequently at night and stare at the ceiling, meandering through lists and thoughts in the wee hours of the morning.
Last weekend, we went to the mountains. It’s our dream to own a little spot of property near Saluda, NC one day. Saluda is the first town you can get to from Charleston that is in the mountains. It has everything you need – big views, waterfalls, quiet streams, a coffee shop and cafe, an art gallery, a playground, and a bakery.
Hugh gets excited when he sees his first glimpse of the Blue Ridge from the car window and always asks to “go hike that mountain.” But when we go hiking, he says, “Where’d the mountains go?” Perspective is a hard thing to explain to a three year-old. “When you’re in it, you can’t really see it,” I say.
But I show him to look at the way the path curves, how the ferns and trees cling to the side of the earth beside us making almost a tunnel, how the woodpeckers swoop above, and how the dandelion floats down the stream because we are up and the stream runs down, becoming somewhere a waterfall.