I’m writing these words from the North Georgia Mountains, my querencia as the Spanish say, meaning a safe haven, home and a place from which one draws strength. It’s here that I feel most whole, secure and at peace. The solitude recharges me.
Right now it is raining, playing a symphony on the tin roof, an overcast day perfect for getting some down time and reading a good book. I look forward to getting into Greg Grandin’s latest work, America, America: A New History of the New World (2025).
Here springtime arrives in a hurry after a cold winter, closing in and wrapping everything in green, budding plants and trees and the first blooms of mountain laurel, the harbinger of more colors to come – rhododendrons, wild flame azaleas and the subtle green shades of the ubiquitous ferns among the rocks and secluded glens. It is a sharp contrast to St. Simons on the coast where the change is more subtle; here spring is dramatic, in your face, and full of promise.
We are only here for a few days, but the time reminds me that life is good.