I don’t visit my parents often. There’s something deafening about the daunting silence of a small mountain town. There’s the feeling of having nowhere to run to other than empty streets. There’s nothing to distract from yourself.
But I had to visit them and now I’m glad I did. Some issues in my head finally caught up with me problems, you simply can’t turn around. I had 4 days of thinking so much. Of reading and walking my dog with only the sound of my own breath. Sipping espresso in the coffee shop next to my dad as we worked side by side each day. Watching the river flow. Looking up and being taken by surprise because it’d been so long since I’d last seen the stars.
The country isn’t as bad as I picture it in my head. But I’ll still chose the city over any mountain town, every time.