We were welcomed with hugs and greetings and I was lead throughout the little house all my friends so fondly referred to as "the cabin". It was cluttered and seemed like it hadn't been lived in for a while. Even though there were miscellaneous objects lying about everywhere and dust coating every surface, it was charming. There were lace curtains shrouding windows, glass vases, and pretty trinkets probably more sentimental than useful. I roamed about the small house, taking pictures and finding more and more lovely things. The base of the staircase was made out of stone, there was an attic that overlooked the living room, and cobwebs clung on to everything. I fell in love with it. And all the while, Auntie Laurie was frantically running about the house trying to clean for the party and wondering why I'd want to take pictures of such a mess.
As the sun descended in the sky, we explored the surrounding nature and took pictures of ourselves garbed in Halloween attire. We climbed to this plateau called the Heliport (the only place we could get cellular service) and as I looked out from my lofty perch at the endless sloping hills, I felt alive. Reality suddenly felt more like an illusion; here I was, in a strange and unfamiliar place that was so close to home but an entirely different world. Everything was so beautiful. The air was crisp, the sky clear, and the horizon seemed never ending. I was glad I had come, to say the least.
The night that ensued was characterized by live music, limitless amounts of red wine, Halloween festivities, and too many cigarettes. I hadn't laughed that much in a long time. When I awoke the next morning and walked outside, I was greeted by cloudy skies and a refreshing zephyr. I breathed it in, knowing that soon I'd have to go back to smoggy civilization. When we finally left, I was sad to see the pine trees and organic beauty I had just started to become familiar with pass me by. And now that I'm back at home, I keep wishing I could go back; back to the cabin.
Pictures taken by me.