The mountain town in which we spend the summer only has one radio station. It plays nothing but songs that were hits in my adolescence and early adult years. Some of them are classics; some of them were always lame, and haven’t improved with age; but all of them are familiar, and many of them have intense emotional connections.
I call my new home town “Boomerville.” I love Boomerville. It isn’t just the cool mountain air and the stunning natural beauty; I feel like I belong here, far away from the madding younger crowd, with people and a culture that I understand.
But autumn leaves, and so must we. It is getting uncomfortably cold. And so, tomorrow we will follow the birds (except our faithful resident blue jays) and head back to Florida.
It will be good to be warm again. I have a bigger footprint in Florida than I ever will here. It will be nice to post using an actual keyboard instead of an iPad, and I have access to books and media equipment that I don’t have here. Nevertheless, I will miss Boomerville, and I will spend the winter looking at mountain webcams and dreaming about our return in the spring.