"These soft nights hold me like themselves aloft
and I lie without a lover."
~Rainer Maria Rilke
My husband and I don't spend many days or nights apart. I haven't spent so long away from him since our wedding, and it's a lonely experience. The nights especially, not only am I lying alone in a strange bed, I'm alone without my familiar nights. Away from the yurt, I miss the moon and the stars, the frogs peeping down by the stream and the wind in the trees. I miss my husband's warm, rich voice and his presence, with fills the night with comfort.
I think my restless days are ending. Travel has less appeal - I never thought it would, but I'm more and more attached to the bit of land we've made our own. As we continue to put down roots - planting, adding animals, buildings, and the baby, wandering becomes less likely, and less of a need in me. I have my woods to wander through, my stream to discover anew each day, and the ever-changing seasons to alter my scenery. I think I've become content - something I never expected to be. Happiness and joy have been mine almost continually in life, but contentment and restfulness, I never expected.
That's not to say I'm not enjoying my visit. My family is always a joy to spend time with, and I find myself appreciating them more and more. I'm glad I came out to cheer my youngest brother's graduation, and celebrate my baby with those who knew me as a baby, but I will be glad to come home to my husband, our home, and the life we're shaping together.