As we gathered under afghans and quilts, watching the sky overhead deepen from cornflower to violet to an inky shade of purple black just a few shades lighter than the silhouettes of treetops on surrounding hills, it felt like settling into the warm lap of the landscape. At dark, fireworks soared overhead with whistles and shrieks, then exploded like rogue stars, filling the sky and echoing around the basin of the lake.
While the lake rocked us, the hills hugged us tight, and we knew we had found a new home.
Elizabeth Trever Buchinger could tell Frank Capra a thing or two about a wonderful life. You can connect with her at www.moremindfulfamily. wordpress.com.