I closed on the house, and a few hours later the owner died, succumbing to a long illness. But the rhythms are changing up here. The sun is popping up over the mountain later every morning. Some birds are already leaving, some leaves already turning. The car pool is already calling about the fall driving schedule, and school starts in a few weeks.
Books have to be picked up soon.
My basement workstation beckons. My Power Mac is gathering dust, and it's time to fire it up, along with my fax, my halogen lights, my laser printer, and banks of wires, surge protectors, and phones. When I came to the mountain, I was shockingly unwired. I spent days in near-total silence, listening to the wind, the owls, the coyotes, and the whine of tires on a distant highway. The peacefulness was like a whack on the head - it startled me.