Home

I enjoyed a wonderful evening tonight with my friends Paul and Alison and their children. We had dinner, ate some dessert, then watched a movie. As I was leaving, talk turned towards projects around the house that were taking place under each of our roofs, and I recalled one house that I almost purchased, to the point of making an offer on it. I mentioned how relieved I was that it hadn't panned out, and that I knew I was in the right house for me.

When I came home tonight, and stepped out of my car, I was greeted with a sound that transported me into a hundred memories--memories of summer nights, camping under the stars in a forest of pines. It's one of the best sounds in the world, and it's a reminder of one more reason I love my house. The sound of wind whipping through the branches of the pine trees that border my backyard is a sound I never tire of hearing. There's no sound like it on earth, and to me, it's a quintessential Michigan sound. I've heard and enjoyed it walking on many a hike in the U.P. of Michigan, or back in my days as a Boy Scout, hiking through the woods back to camp. It's a sound best mixed with the sound of waves lapping on shore, or accompanied by the roar of a campfire. That sounds reminds me of wonderful trips with friends or family, or solo hikes that are just as memorable. I'll often sit under those pine trees when I come home in the summer, and enjoy the peace I feel when I hear that most pleasant of sounds. It's a reminder of how I think this house is perfect for me, and one more reason why I'm very grateful for it.