Home

One of my favourite things about returning to Newfoundland is how my neighbors always say "Welcome home!" to me.  Because it does feel like home in that deep-in-your-bones kind of way, if not so much in the filling-out-permanent-residency-paperwork kind of way.  This year, it was hard to leave New York: art stuff was happening, teaching yoga was hitting a stride, and with my newly-minted rakusu, I wanted to hang out with my Dharma brothers and sisters.  I was having a little petulant teenage moment of my own, like "do I really have to go?"  Hey, when you run with wolves...

Even the drive up felt ever so slightly lackluster, muted by my attitude of having left something behind.  Thank goodness that the physicality of the landscape is so powerful and strong that it was able to knock me upside the head as soon as we rolled off the ferry and hit the Trans-Canada.

We're here!

The air, the smell, the fact that it was snowing - snowing! - yesterday.  Why did I doubt it?
 

The view from here.

My new BFF

Greeted by cheese scones made by Olive.  When I tell you they are worth the 2.5 day trip alone, I am not lying.