Returning Home


We drove back from the cabin yesterday, leaving just as the sun was setting. We drove through rural Wisconsin as the sky turned orange and pink and seemed to set the tops of the bare trees on fire. The kids were quiet in the back seat, tired from days spent with friends and time in the snow and on the ice. Luisa and I stared straight ahead, thankful for clear roads and captivated by the crescent moon that seemed to be staring down at Venus.

I love the cabin. It's the only place where winter feels right. The cold air doesn't bother me and the snow doesn't feel daunting. But it always feels good to return home.

Last night, as the city came into view, I felt that same warmth I always do when I see the skyline. No matter how much I complain and how conflicted I feel, I belong here in a way I've never belonged anywhere else.

This is home.