As a proud transplant to Seattle, WA I spend a fair amount of time telling people what a great city this is. Part of that is my being a forced optimist and part of it is the truth, but I like it here.
That said, I miss home this time of year. Home is the Allegheny Mountains of NY, near Alfred and Saint Bonaventure Universties. Home is where I walked out of my backdoor as a sometimes angry kid, got on my dirtbike, and worked it all out. Home is my family's maple farm and restaurant, where there's space and peace and quiet; it's the house I grew up in, the trees I climbed and the crisp fall air and rainbow painted mountains. It's my kids running free in a field until they're out of breath, it's feeding the family's reindeer, it's sliding cars around corners on dirt roads just because you can, and shooting guns and knowing everyone, whether they're good, bad or somewhere in between.
I miss home.
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