The way home.

[tedwords]

"I had spent many years pursuing excellence, because that is what classical music is all about... Now it was dedicated to freedom, and that was far more important." Nina Simone

Friday was the start of the journey home, and entering into "Week Three" of this vacation. But as has been the norm with with this trip, we decided to make our return trip last as long as possible, avoiding all highways and taking the most scenic route possible.

Our journey took us through the Jacobs Ladder scenic byway, and we think we've discovered a route we will want to visit and revisit again and again. It was filled with little areas you could stop at recapture past moments in time, such as an old cemetery filled with gravestones from the 1700s, or beautiful old railroad bridges that have now become part of nature, or stop-offs where a thirty minute hike would bring you to beautiful waterfalls with 60-foot drops.

At the waterfall, I was able to find a rock and rest on it, close my eyes, and make it one of my touchstones. That's something I've been doing since I was in my early twenties, when I traveled to Edinburgh. It's simply closing your eyes and relaxing and imagining that a part of you is diving down deep into the core of the area around you, a golden string from your soul connecting with the place, taking root, attaching itself, and no matter where you go or what you do, a part of you is continuously drawing strength from that connection. (Of course, I also have a touchstone in Xcaret, among many other places.)

We arrived back home around six that night, and only cheated on our "no highways" rule during the last 40 minutes of the trip, because Corb had to take a pee break. 

What a journey this was. I am so glad we decided to embark upon it. 

What I haven't mentioned is that originally, our travel time was intended to be spent in Provincetown. We had three days booked there, and I had been so looking forward to it, since it's one of my favorite locations, and last time we went, it had been an eerie ghost town due to the pandemic. I like it when it's alive, filled with partying and drag queens and laughter. 

The day after we booked our trip, however, the media was filled with reports of it being Ground Zero for the pandemic, due to so many revelers electing to spend their post-pandemic holiday in the gayest spot in Massachusetts. 

After some thought, we decided the wisest option was to take a rain-check on Provincetown and find somewhere a bit safer and less at risk. Even though we are both vaccinated, we felt it wasn't worth the the worry. We didn't want to be selfish, just because it's something "we felt we deserved" (as a friend of mine phrased his justification for going to P-Town recently.)

Turns out, this was probably my favorite of the three New England bed and breakfast trips we've taken this summer (to New Hampshire, Maine, and now Western Massachusetts), although all three had moments that I really loved. But I like this one the best because we took it slower, made the most of our time, made surprise decisions that were grounded in the moment. Grounded. That is the word I am taking from this trip.

For some reason, I have often found that the plan Bs in your life turn out to be the better options after all--and the fruit that tastes the sweetest.